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The New England magazine. / New Series, Volume 22, Note on Digital Production 1022 000
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The New England magazine. / New Series, Volume 22, Issue 1 New England magazine and Bay State monthly New England magazine and Bay State monthly Era magazine New England Magazine Co. Boston Mar 1900 1022 001
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0 New England Magazine An Illustrated Monthly New Series, Vol. 22 March, 1900 August, Boston, Mass. Warren F. Kellogg, Publisher, 5 Park Square. 1900 2 K _Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1900, by inzthe Office of WARREN F. KELLOGG, the Librarian of Congress at Washington. All rights reserved. HUGO GROTIUS. See Edilors Table.

The New England magazine. / New Series, Volume 22, Issue 1 3-130

THE NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE. NEW SERIES. MARCH, 1900. VOL. XXII.~JNo4~i. BELLONA. WRITTEN AFTER SEEING LA MARSEILLAISE, BY FRAN~OIS RUDE, ON THE ARC DE TRIOMPHE, PARIS. Vittorict Colonnct Dallin. BORNE onward by the fiery cloud of war, Horrid with spears and flashing swords, she comes; With awful battle shout she bids arise All passions base, revenge and hate and lust For blood, with brutal cruelty and greed, All in the name of what man holds most high, The love of God, of fatherland and home, Blinding mens eyes to all her hideousness By bright alluring promises of fame, And by the stirring music of her song. Marchons, marchons! The air is rent with yell And shriek, with clank of arms and trumpet call; The charger rears all furious for the fray, The bow is bent, the garb of peace is cast Aside to grasp the corselet and the sword, And peace and joy are banished from the earth, While havoc, strife and carnage are enthroned. The untried youth sees in his fathers face The patriots zeal, and while he hears the shout, His very soul is thrilled, and he becomes A man and hero from that fateful hour. The old man mourns that he can fight no more, But gives his blessing to his son, and cries: Go forth and slay, avenge your countrys wrongs! Go forth, my son, and leazi the mighty hosts To glorious victory or glorious death ! In all the splendor of his glittering arms, In all the strength and courage of his prime, LA MARSEILLAISE, BY FRANCOIS RUDE. 4 AFTER THE BATTLE. 5 He seems the martial spirit incarnate, A Qesar or Napoleon, the chief Whom armies follow wheresoeer he leads, The conqnering hero who retnrns from war, With bands of captives and with precious spoils, Amid the plaudits of the multitude, Who, dazzled by the gorgeons trinmph, mad With wild enthnsiasm for their chief, Forget that vnltnres gloat oer bloody fields, That myriad hearts are torn with pain and woe, While hydra-headed evil blights the land. Bnt is there none in all that group to cry: Depart, 0 hated goddess, from the earth; For pestilence and famine, fire and sword, With death and mm, follow in thy train! Leave to the past her pride in warlike deeds; A better, nobler pride our age should boast. The world has suffered ilong enongh from thee And all thy dreaded brood. Tis time that spears Were beaten into pruning hooks; tis time That Peace borne on a radiant cloud should come, Attended by her handmaids, wisdom, love, Justice and liberty; spread wide her wings Above the earth, and by her battle shout Draw round her standard all the sons of men, To fight gainst sin and ignorance and crime, The fitting crusades of the coming age, Opening mens eyes to all her loveliness, By wakening deeper sympathies and love, Till, knit in one by ties of brotherhood, The nations far and wide, as neer before, Shall sing of peace on earth, good will to men! AFTER THE BATTLE. By Everett S. Hubbard. MY measures may not sing the battle hymn Of flame and fame mid death on swiftest wing; Some keener rhythm shall voice Wars thundering. But when the ranks drift back, and cannon grim Roll down the dales with silent lips; when dim Are widowed eyes, and Rachel, wandering, Laments; when wild birds trillstrange worldand sing Just as before,then pause; come chant with him Who, noting not the far victorious drum Nor bugle paeans oer the red morass, Turns to the scenes where vaunting lips grow dumb, And hears the moaning from the sodden grass ; Who, deaf to all vainglory here, would come To breathe a requiem when brave souls pass UN Home is Freddys name for F the School for the Feeble- Minded at Waltham, Massachu- setts, where he has lived for years, often answering in impromptu rhymes when challenged in conversation. I like to sit tinder the grapery Clad in Japanese drapery, was his instant reply to a visitor, who asked him why he did not go indoors one hot day, when he was sitting in an arbor overhung by grapevines. Not one of the attendants supposed he had ever heard of Oriental fabrics. He has an ardent ad- miration for a boy named Walter, and once when told to be very good and amuse himself, pleaded in trem- bling tone: If youll only let me play with Walter, Truly then I will not falter. Yet Freddy is only one among thousands of chil- dren who present in themselves problems which must be solved by processes of educa- tion as well as by the intuitions of philanthropy. There is no more in- teresting phase of psychology than that of the development of a low- grade, feeble-minded child into an in- telligent, self-guiding person, with due r.egard for the rights of others. It was as an Experimental School that the first state institution in Amer- ica was established at South Boston, Massachusetts, October, 1848, for teaching and training idiotic chil- dren, though the repulsive adjective was in time modified and it is now 6 (!~bucation 0~ tt)~ minS~5 ~3t1icitc (qdfl ~et t Watts. THE FIRST HOME FOR THE FEEBLE-MINnEn AT SOUTH BOSTON. EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. merely called the Massachusetts School for the Feeble-Minded Be- fore this period, in i8i8, a few idiots had been received at the American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb in Hartford, Connecticut, out of pity for their condition, notwfthstanding the first known attempt to educate an idiot in France, in i8oo, had proved futile. Not until Dr. Seguins fame as an in- structor of idiots began, in 1837, and his Treatise on Idiocy had been crowned by the French Academy, in 1846, was serious attention bestowed upon these defective persons. In the same year, 1846, on motion of Judge Byington of the Massachu- setts House of Representatives, a board of three commissioners was ap- pointed to inquire into the number and condition of idiots in the Com- monwealth. Dr. Samuel G. Howe was made chairman of this commis- sion, and in his first report (1847), which became so famous that it was translated into many languages, in- 7 cluded a letter from Hon. George Sumner concerning Dr. Seguins school in Paris. This famous missive glowed with hope, quoting the reply of M. Vallee, teacher at Bicetre, France, that patience and the desire to do good are all that is necessary, and stating as a certainty that the re- flective power exists within them (idiots) and may be awakened by a proper system of instruction. Like a fresh assurance of immortality fell this report upon the transcendental- ism of the day and upon the hearts of clergymen, one of xvhom, Dr. E. S. Gannett, later stood reverently in the school at South Boston saying: The soul then never dieth except sin kill it. Say rather, added the tran- scendentalist, that God is in every human beincr The practical result of the letter and the report was the annual grant by the legislaturefirst made May 8, 1848, of $2,500 for an Experimental School, with a board of trustees, under SCHOOL BUILDINGS AT THE HOME FOR FEEBLE-MINDED AT WALTHAM. 8 EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. the care of Dr. Howe, whose first pupil was re- ceived in Oc- tober of the same year. Dr. Seguin came from France, organ- ized classes, in- troduced his method of train- ing, and aided in establishing sim- ilar schools in other states. In July a private in- stitution for idiots was opened in Barre, Massachusetts. New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio followed as pioneer states in this direction, until in 1874 seven states had under train- ing over one thousand pupils. Never did Dr. Howe lose faith in his two working principles: (i) that a school for the feeble-minded is a link in the chain of common schools, the last indeed, but still a necessary link, in order to embrace all the children in the state; and (2) that such a school should not be converted into an asylum for incurables. Before he served as a redeemer of idiots these were consigned to neglect and dete- rioration. Yet only thirty-two out of the states one thousand two hundred were sent to him; and though the majority of those who came were too old for much improvement, he pleaded for their betterment in words which showed the ten- derness and strength of his well reasoned faith in their pos- sibilities. He be- came personally responsible for any excess of cost over the receipts, and for nearly two years gave up the rooms in the Institution for the Blind, \vhich were assigned to him for his own family, to the use of the school until it was removed to a house of its own. Proudly reads Dr. Howes last re- port, for 1875-76, of the work he began twenty-nine years before. I examined all candidates, engaged all its officers, prescribed diet and regimen, rules and regulations, disci- pline and exercise in the school and gymnasium, and made all the exam- inations in person. I also travelled a good deal in search of pupils. I visited other states and brought before their legislatures the plan of having GIRL5 BUILDING. hUULHUU~I~ AINIJ ~iYM1NA~1UIV1. EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. 9 their idiotic children sent to onr school, proper payment therefor be- ing provided. I incnrred consid- erable expense in all this without remuneration, and it was not until about seven years ago that I con- sented to re- ceive a nom- inal allow- ance for my travelling and personal expenses. H o n o r e d and dear still are the names of the school trus- tees and officers, those of George B. Emerson, Edward Jarvis, Stephen Fairbanks and Samuel Eliot. For twenty-one years Dr. Eliot was presi- dent of the trustees, giving to the school richly of his time and wisdom, a large part of its growth having been due to his labors on its behalf. In 1855 additional funds were given by the state and private friends, and a larger and more commodious build- ing was erected, the public bene- ficiaries and the private pupils re- maining in it on the same terms as be- fore. THE EARMHOUSE. In 1891 the work of mov- ing the school by detach- ments to Wal- tham began, as the necessity for country life as well as for larger accommodations became more apparent. Yet the ninety-two acres have already become insufficient for farm. work and buildings, since with increasing yearly force the questions press: What is to be done with the adult feeble-minded? Shall they be allowed to return to the world to multiply their kind, or shall they be perpetually housed and sup- ported by the state? Where shall the danger line be drawn below which a feeble-minded person is a public menace? HOW far shall their educa BOYS AT WORK. THE HOSPITAL. I0 EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. tion extend? When a mother has the right to refuse to commit to the school her defective daughter, lest it disgrace the family, and then a few years later brings her child there for perpetual custody because she is the mother of three illegitimate children supported in three almshouses in three different towns at public expense, has the pub- lic no rights in the matter, is it purely an individual qnestion? In actual practice, few of the adult inmates are discharged, and those who do leave, capable of self-support and self-management after careful training, are generally under twenty years of age. But the number of young children seeking admission is THE PLAY ROOM. I liii. DEN IN L~ KUUIVI. EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. II steadily increasing, so that the state is still confronted with the necessity of maintaining some adeqnate perma- nent shelter for its feeble-minded, which shall not interfere with the re- qnirements of a school; else the edn- cational plan will be merged in that of a charitable asylnm,which, how- ever, many experts believe shonld be the ontcome of the original school plan. No one is better fitted to cope with these difficnl- ties than the present snper- intendent, Dr. Walter E. Fernald, who a s s n m e d charge in 1887. He is ably seconded in all he does by the ma- trons, clerks and teachers, who have nn- nsnal originality, patience and wis- dom. In October, 1899, Dr. George G. Tarbell, who at one time had been assistant snperintendent, and npon his resignation of that office had yet remained for years as one of the most active of the trnstees, was ap- pointed president of the board, a most worthy snccessor of Dr. Eliot, who died the previons year. Perh ps the best general view of the school, at once the most pathetic and inspiring, is fnrnished at the honrs for meals. First to enter the dining room are the shambling, shnffling, big, stnpid, weak childrenthat is, men and women. The stronger among them pnsh the paralytic in their wheeled chairs, gnide the epilep- tic or carry the deformed, pnny ones to their high seats. Gently is borne the long basket in which lies a boy who never sits np, the children vying with one an- other in the care with which they drop the food into his month. Then come the stal- wart pnpils,wbo nse bibs and eat off stont crockery; and then the well bred (all is comparative), who have napkins and knives and forks instead of spoons. Almost every table has its flowers, gathered by the children. Bad manners are considered by all as a pnblic disgrace, and the code of awkward politeness is strengthened by the mntnal tenderness with which it is observed, for the feeble-minded eagerly protect each other. KINDERGARTEN EXERCI5E5. I? EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. More apparent still is this tender- ness in the large, well-lighted play rooms, one for boys and one for girls. In the latter sits in her wheeled chair a yonng woman, to whom Waltham is as good as heaven, for she has been sent back and forth from town and state in- stitutions as belonging nowhere until sheltered here, where she has her hearts desire in caring for babies. One rests on her soft shoulders, another lies on her broad lap, while a third is cuddled upon thefloor close to her chair, so that she can pet it all day long. When there is a dis- turbance in the room the attendant pushes her chair towards the scnfflers, and somehow the loving tonch and mumbling words of this happy de fective one soothe the irritated chil- dren, and they become quiet or sleepy under the magnetism of her affection. Up and down the floor is drawn a block of wood, on which sit those tak- ing an imaginary drive. Others push about circular high stools like cages, in which are placed the bandy-legged, who thus learn to stand. Like the chorus of a miniature race-course sound the ejaculations of the healthier ones to their feebler companions: Go it! Dont be busted! Bully! and in a few months the weaklings of five to ten years can walk instead of crawling, cheered by the praise of their comrades. There is no need of other play- things than dolls for this grade of de- fective children. To see the older women, still more the men, hugging their dolls with a fervor that quiets their feelings, murmuring to them as if EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED they were hnman, or pnnishing them as they themselves have been cor- rected,shows what is meant by po- tential fatherhood and motherhood. One rag doll had its hands tied behind its back becanse its owner had had hers treated in the same way in order that she need not stick pins into her 3 companions; bnt seldom is snch a penalty inflicted npon either doll or child. On all bnt very stormy days the inmates, yonng and old, are ont of doors in sqnads nnder the charge of attendants. Each division has its own grove. Many do. nothing save exist A GROUP OF SMALL GIRLS. 4 EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. happily. Cleanliness is an acqnired art; once gained, the childs vanity is aronsed, and smooth hair, ribbons and collars become greater incentives to good behavior than books, while a belt with a buckle is equal to a diploma in its effect. The varions houses in which the children live, at a cost, including tnition, of three dollars and twenty- two cents a week, are gronped aronnd the central administration building, where Dr. Fernald resides with his family. The many honses permit classification and separation of the pupils according to their age and condition. The brigbter boys and girls are by themselves. At the north building are one hundred and eleven grown men of the custodial class, who mnst be cared for like children. At the farmhonse are the few helpful, trnsted workers. In still another dormitory are the boys nnder twelve years of age and women and girls of feeble intelligence and un- tidy ways. In the school classes proper there are about one hnndred and ten pupils; in the kindergarten and practical training classes about one hundred and seventy-six. lInt all the other inmates are also to be trained, or at least protected, for the sake of the state, if not for their own sake! Therefore household and ontdoor oc- cupations are essential. In the laundry, which is as impor- tant a factor in manual training as in cleanliness, all the girls who are capa- ble of making any exertion work in turn. Ruby was one of this number, so fat, heavy and sluggish when she was first received at the WestBuilding that she waddled rather than walked. At the end of many months she knew how to be cleanly and happy. Then the matron said: She is still too fat and too weak to work hard, but she must do something; let her fold towels in the laundry. For six months did Ruby try to fold a towel in halves, and then, one morning, with face growing paler and eyes brighter, slowly, painfully, awkwardly, she brought the four corners together with an expression of rapture on her countenance which transfigured it, and xvould have fallen fainting if the ThE COMPANY DRILL. EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. 5 matron had not caught her. That ef- fort was to Ruby the victorious cul- mination of the hardest physical and intellectual struggles she had ever made. Six months later she was in the sewing room, darning stockings, and to-day, carefully guarded in her mothers house, helps in the house- work, useful and contented. In the gymnasium the first attempts of the children at conscious physical self-culture are very crude, as they learn to walk without shuffling, to the uneven beating of a drum, struck by one of themselves. Here also they take their first lessons in patriotism by carrying a flag, honor forbidding its being dragged upon the floor. The athletes of the Gym straighten the arms and legs of their feebler class- mates, outwards and downwards, and with sudden thrusts poke at the chins and heads of the lazy who will not look up. As a lesson in self-control, a halt is quickly called, when all sit still with folded arms for a few moments. Strongly accented music stimulates their dormant energies, since it is cise subserves sense train- ing, as the child gains the will to do. Any given exercise is short in time, definite in execu t i o n, performed first by the teachers, then imitated by the class, until at last, by unwearied training, many of the children are able to execute the orders when only spoken. But one must have faith in the value of such gymnastic training to make it of real value to the most unintelligent. The hospital is plain and comfort- futile to expect the low-grade feeble- minded to go through a series of pro- gressive Swedish exercises merely at the spoken word of command. The physical exercises at Waltham have been specially arranged by Dr. Fernald as schedules of movements required in the doing of common things. In this way gymnastic exer AT WORK AND AT PLAY. i6 EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. able, as are all the buildings. It is curious to note the childrens recog- nition of death as something natural and to be expected, and yet not one of them looks forward to it for him- self. In the three big kitchens for the buildings the children shell peas, pare potatoes, wash dishes, and do simple cooking. Here as in the laundry there are matches in skill and swiftness. An ironing match often furnishes an evenings entertainment. Long before the children are ready to enter even the kindergarten, they are practised in sense training in the classrooms of the dormitories. From a glass case filled with toys the teacher takes out a miniature hen. Have you any feet? she asks of the gaping, wondering group before her. Most of them do not know. What do you eat with? she next inquires. Then they know; and she talks about the hens bill, its egcrs and chickens, as her pupils learn to re o& nize pictures of the barnyard and to cluck and crow. Toy kitchen stoves and tea sets fur- nish a dolls tea party, imparting knowledge of the names and purposes of everyday objects. Such exercises would be needless for normal children of ten years, the average age of those in this class. The recognition of different pieces of wood by their shapes constitutes an advanced lesson. The instructor holds up a longitudinal bit, and with a seraphic grin and a chuckle of de- light, a boy matches it from the pile lying on the table, while another child tries to make a square piece fit a circular one, a n d becomes wofully dis- turbed thereat, a hopeful sign. When do you see stars? is asked, as a star-shaped piece of wood is held up. Often it is~ two or three months before there is any comprehension of this question. An unusually bright boy, when asked to find a ball like the one shown him, found its double on a dumb-bell. Earlier than all this teaching and its accompanying moral lessons is the hL ud trainino~. Put your hands to- AT WORK IN THE 5RXVING ROOM AND LAUNDRY. EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. 7 gether; put your fingers in and out; put hands in a circle; clap them; put up thumb; close other fingers; open them; wiggle them ! This last they love to do. For each of these simple exercises the teacher daily, weekly, monthly, takes the flabby, nerveless hands of each child in her own and goes through these manc~uvres of progress with them. When the hands are partially trained, the members of the class are taught to pick up pins from the floor. It is as if hippopotami were trying. Then they wind string from one ball to another, and put little sticks into a board pierced with holes, both being difficult feats to accom- plish. They learn to recognize ob- jects enclosed in a bag by feeling their shape, and to tell the differences in sound between tin trumpets, reed pipes, etc. They acquire a sense of taste and smell through spices and bottles of various liquids. This long fundamental training of the senses, united with physical exer- cises, yields better results than could be obtained by any other method, as the children slowly realize that there is a purpose in all that Dr. Fernaid directs them to do. Their relation to him is so personal, that the old man of seventy, the middle-aged and the puny toddlers alike feel that they owe him love and obedience. His underlying motive of utility in all his teaching is strikingly shown by such a simple operation as the lacing of a boot. Instead of having it taught theoretically on two perforated, up- right pieces of wood, as in Sweden, the Waltham children learn on a real boot, often on one worn by a fellow pupil. The art of buttoning and un- buttoning, however, is acquired on strips of cloth, and then transferred to each others garments. It is all slow work, demanding energy and anima- tion from the teachers, who must not merely hold, but create attention in the children, by a brisk manner and clear voice. No wonder they are weary as each class leaves them in squirming lines, the mem bers helping each other out of the room. The personal duties of daily life, just because they are necessary, are also taught as educational. There is a toilet class, a bed-making class, a sew- ing class. The color sense too must be trained, since the feeble-minded are often color blind. One boy drew a lobster in blue crayon; another sketched asparagus in brown chalk. In the kindergarten itself the occu- pations and games are largely modi- fied to suit the nature of the children. Pet animals, birds, toys of all kinds, especially wagons and carriages, are employed as instruments. A hack is the funeral wagon. It follows nat- urally that at Waltham there is not such a marked division between the kindergarten and the primary school as among normal children. No- where also is a teacher more free to follow her own wise devices; there- fore with each step gained, both pupil and instructor have the joyful sense of victory. Notwithstanding queer bits of ob- tuseness, the grown-up children of the primary grade are very bright in seeing words in disconnected letters xvritten on the blackboard: h c t a c is quickly resolved into catch. They learn the days of the week by pictures drawn against their names. Sunday has a church, Monday a wash-tub, Tuesday a flatiron, Wednesday a loaf of l)read. So far the children agree; but the other days are indeterminate periods divided between pies, sweep- ing and marketing. Paper folding is very significant; dexterity in imita- tion is easy compared with memory of how to fold the paper. If a child can recall the order of the creases, she is considered intellectual and will make rapid progress in her drawing. But here again curious freaks are seen. A certain boy sees upside down. Drawing correctly, he yet be- gins at the bottom of a leaf or at the outside of a spiral. In spelling, he puts the correct letters upside down; in arithmetic, he gives the right i8 EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. answer, but reverses the number; 19 is written 91. The children are passionately fond of making collections of beetles, grasshoppers, etc., handling the crea- tures with tenderness and studying their habits. To be allowed the priv- ilege of feeding the animals in the Zoo is high honor. In the gram- mar class the pupils seem very much like other children, savinz the differ- ence in age and their evident pains- taking, which, with all that is angu- lar and awkward, is still sincere. They have some knowledge of cur- rent events. When some of them were asked why they liked President Mc- Kinley, one fellow answered: Cause a silver dollar is worth only fifty-three cents, and lots of em would weigh down my pocket so I couldnt get round. On their entrance to the grammar class the problem of their future edu- cation has narrowed itself to a definite point, the utilizing of their so-called intellectual education in industrial ways; for it is cruel as well as foolish to lead them into departments of knowledge which will develop them in a one-sided manner. A boy with a phenomenal memory may have no moral sense; a girl who computes fig- ures quickly in her head may be in- capable of self-respect. The industrial training begun by hand, sense and ob- ject training, by drawing by the eye, not alone by rule and compass, is still further developed by sloyd. After the half day of school work the pupils pass into the workshops and learn cob- bling, brush-making, carpentering and house painting. Not long ago the boys themselves used several hundred pounds of white lead in painting the inside of all the houses, besides doing the varnishing of the woodwork. They assist in bricklaying and mason work, and are fair farmers. These outdoor occupations include the train- ing of the lowest grades of the defec- tive persons, who dig ditches and make roads, or are saved from paroxysms of excitement by carrying stones from one pile to another and back, or by walking on a circular track. They are as eager about this as if their labor were useful to others. The inert among them sit between the potato hills, picking off potato bugs as happily as if they were berrying. The previous school education has fitted the higher grade inmates for manual work in the same way, if one may compare small things with great, that the four years at Harvard helps its graduates as they become business men. Only on this ground can the education of the feeble-minded be- yond the rudiments of reading, writ- ing and arithmetic be justified. If their intellectual training is carried too far, they become unhappy doing manual work; while if not carried far enough, they cannot get the most out of their later industrial work, and re- gard it as beneath their dignity. As ~raltham accommodates but ten per cent of the feeble-minded of the state, a disproportionate part of the expense should not be bestowed upon the higher book education of a few, for with all the progress that might be made only a small fraction of the in- mates can ever exercise independent judgment or spend money wisely. To gain an intimate knowledge of Dr. Fernalds wisdom and sympathy in caring for the children, young and old, one should see them at their games. All the legal holidays are joyously observed, and every pretext for special occasions is eagerly seized. Last Halloween, as most of them gathered in the gymnasium for games, the thought that they were feeble-minded would hardly have oc- curred to a careless observer. With full tumblers of water, they ran round the hall, vying with one another in having the fullest glass at the end of the race. Wabbling tumblers they called it. They tried to bite apples floating in a pan of water or dangling from a pole, or, blindfolded, to feed each other from a saucer of sugar held between them; and when the sugar ran down each others necks in- EDUCATION OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED. 9 stead of into their mouths, how they shouted! A race in winding up strings showed their insensibility to pain, the cords cutting into the flesh, sotightlyand swiftly were they wound round their hands in their excitement. On Fourth of July, the day begins early with the Horribles procession, arranged by themselves. All lunch out of doors, each ward having its lo- cation indicated by flags. They run sack and pig races, and close the day with fireworks. None but their guardians are tired. Christmas is less noisy, but gayer. Each one has gifts from the tree, sup- plied by home friends or the school. A little play or concert is given, or pieces are spoken or carols sung. As at meal times, one then sees the sad- ness and affection, the hopefulness, patience and dignity of the school. Grotesque is not the epithet for these unfortunates. In comes the old man of the school, wrapped as if he were a bundle, the cripples on crutches, the paralytic in baskets, the repulsive- faced and those with the yearning gaze of womanhood and manhood. If the sight makes ones heart ache, it also holds out promise of redemption. There is neither confusion nor rough- ness in the crowd as Santa Claus ap- pears, but there are hearty laughs, feeble ejaculations and travesties of smiles. The appropriateness of the gifts shows the personal consideration given to each inmate. Normal chil- dren, educated up to toy machinery, and girls who crave the luxuries of a dolls wardrobe, would not care for the rag babies, the iron toys, the sus- penders, cravats and neckties which these children value. On the ward attendants, who seem actuated alone by the desire of loving service, falls the physical care of these inmates, more repellent in many ways than the insane. Generally on their first arrival, the children are flabby and poorly fed, owing to home igno- rance more than to poverty. The odor peculiar to them is due to want of cleanliness, long months of care being necessary to destroy it, while decayed teeth are extracted,which they deem a special privilege, enjoying it as others do gymnastics. Though the two thousandth patient since the school was incorporated was received October i~, 1899, only thirty- six per cent of those applying for ad- mission in 1898 could enter. Yet the number of applicants will doubtless increase, for town authorities, recog- nizing the need of custodial care for defectives, are more and more willing to pay the board of such persons to an institution. Therefore in order to have a perma- nent home for graduates, trained, but not capable of being at large, and still too old for school life, and also to be able to receive a larger per cent of ap- plicants at Waltham, the trustees of the school have lately bought some two thousand acres at Templetoi~, Massachusetts, where Beaver Brook runs through the land and where one of its hills has been gratefully called Eliot Hill. Several cottages are to be built, that these grown-up children may live in families; the rough land is to be redeemed, and the good farming land to be cultivated. Yet with all this outlook into larger space, the problem remains, what should be the future of a school for the feeble-minded? In 1896 there were ninety-five thousand such per- sons in the United States. Has the state a right to confine them as it does its criminals, though the feeble- minded are usually the sufferers for others wrongdoing, rather than for their own? Unless this right is con- ceded, they will marry or bear children outside of marriage,in either case inflicting upon the state the growing burden of the neurotic, epileptic, in- sane and criminal; for all the various phases of abnormality can begin in feeble-mindedness. Even if the estj- mate of eighty per cent as that in which mental deficiency descehds from parent to child is an over-esti- mate, the per cent is vastly higher than in any other cases. Moreover, it -20 THE BOOKS OF TIME. has already been proved beyond dis- pute that a large per cent of all the illegitimacy occurring in the country is to be charged to those whose mental condition makes them partially or totally irresponsible for the evils which they produce. Certainly on any such reckoning the state is directly responsible for the prevention of the further increase of the evil. If, therefore, a child is once committed to Waltham, shall it re- main there as long as it lives, passing from one department to another? Shall the state consider as its bene- ficiaries all those committed there, be- cause they are under its authority? Has a parent no right to retain a child in his home if he guarantees to the state that no evil shall be inflicted upon the public through its existence? These are the questions pressing for settlement as the conviction grows that, since the state is ever trustee to the future, it should assume the per- petual care and custody of the feeble- minded, parents contributing to their support in proportion to their means, and a board of experts rendering de- cision in each case as to the degree of defectiveness which should justify such retention. That the years of those so restrained can be made use- ful and happy is abundantly demon- strated by the daily life at Waltham, since on the colony plan, adopted there and elsewhere, tenderness and self-control are engendered, which largely atone for the deprivation of outward liberty. THE BOOKS OF TIME. By John Curtis Underwood. WHEN to the Roman king the sybil came And offered him her scrolls, that he might buy, While still he bargained, thus was her reply: One roll she burned, her price was still the same; While still he doubts, another feeds the flame. At last he heaps her golden guerdon high, His precious remnant hugs and chokes a sigh For those rich volumes he can ne er reclaim. Time offers us the books of life, long years Wherein to set the tale of worthy deeds In toilsome letters writ; and all too late We yield our golden pleasure; while we wait, Swift from our hands each flying moment speeds, Not to be ransomed een with prayers and tears. THE ROME OF TACITUS. By Bessie Keyes Hudson. TOWARD the end of the reign of Trajan, the best of men, the Roman people were fulfilling their highest ideal of happiness, plenty of bread and games in the Circus, and this without paying the cost themselves, for Trajans con- quests furnished ample supplies. Day after day, sometimes for weeks in suc- cession, the great Circus was filled with its two and three hundred thou- sand souls; and this place of meeting, where there was almost no distinction of rank or sex, had the greatest charm for a people naturally gay and grega- rious. Moreover at that time the free- dom of thinking what you pleased and saying what you thought delighted men who remembered the days when Domitians flushed face glowered from the imperial box and it was at the risk of your life that you gave or withheld your applause. From the roar of the great assem- blage, now hushed for a moment in breathless suspense and then break- ing forth in a tumult of applause at a victory hardly won, a few quiet sen- tences have come down to us. A stranger is seated by a Roman sena- tor of distinguished appearance; in spite of the distractions of the place they fall into a varied and learned conversation, and before they part the stranger asks: Are you an Italian or from the Provinces? His neighbor replies: You have become, ac- quainted with me in your studies. Then are you Tacitus or Pliny? re- 2! joins the stranger without hesitation. This apparently pleased Tacitusfor it was heand he mentioned it to Pliny at their next meeting. Pliny was exceedingly gratified and made this and a similar incident the subject of a characteristic letter to his friend Maximus. I cannot tell you how much it pleases me that our names Tacitus and Plinyare associated with literature, as if the property of letters rather than of men, and that each of us is known by the studies apart from which he is unknown. His joy is so great that he almost hesitates in writing to his friend, not from any feeling of modesty, accord- ing to modern idcas, but from fear of causing an unpleasant sensation of envy in his friends heart. He fin- ishes his letter: I rejoice, and I say that I rejoice; for why should I fear to seem. too boastful when I repeat anothers opinion of me and not mine of myself, and especially to you who envy no mans glory and enjoy mine? Fate has dealt very differently with the reputation of the two friends whose names and pursuits were united at this time. Of the studies with which it pleased Pliny to be identified we know very little; but from his letters we know the man, his household and his affairs, as if we had lived neighbors with him in a New England village. Tacitus is as synon- ymous with history as Clio herself, although he takes upon himself the 22 THE ROME OF TACITUS. duties of Rhadamanthus in addition to those of the muse, and joins a judgment of men to the simple rec- ord of events. His complete identi- fication with his works is due without dot~bt to the slight knowledge which we have of him outside of his intellec- tual life. He was probably the son of Cor- nelius Tacitus, a procurator under Nero of a province of Belgic Gaul; and the best authorities consider A. D. ~. the year of his birth. We can guess the course pf his own edu- cation from his censure of the educa- tion of modern youth, in the essay on Oratory. Probably the guidance of his early years was not left to a worthless Greek chambermaid and a slave or two, the worst of the house- hold. His mother, or some elderly female relative of approved conduct, arranged his hours of work and relax- ation, inculcated principles of virtue, and, what was most needed in a large household of slaves and attendants, saw that strict propriety of speech and manner was always preserved be- fore the child. His father-in-law, Agricola, was educated at Marseilles, that seat of learning, where Greek refinement is well mingled with pro- vincial frugality. But Tacitus probably studied at home with private tutors until manhood, for he makes no reference to a university life of his own in relating that of his father-in- law. The fashionable Roman schools at that time were taught by degenerate Greek rhetoricians and grammarians, whose shallow learning and evil in- fluence all writers unite in con- demning. Something may be ex- cused, however, in a poor schoolmas- ter who, as Juvenal tells us, cannot go to the Baths or Forum without being stopped by curious parents and catechised as to What was the name of the nurse of Anchises? How long did Acestes live, and how many measures of wine did he give to the Phrygians? An unready answer may deprive him of fees and pupils; and if he is a most successful and fashionable teacher he will only re- ceive in one year the amount paid a favorite charioteer for one race,al- ways excepting Quintilian, who has made a fortune by his lectures and is therefore considered lucky and a greater rarity than a white crow 1 He and his pupils regard Cicero as a model of eloquence, only objecting to a few of his mannerisms, which lead the weaker writers of this school to think they have composed a Cicero- nian sentence when they end with esse videatur, ~~much as Mark Twains student thought he was speaking German when he finished a sentence with haben geworden sein. Tacitus undoubtedly attended these lectures when about twenty-one years old. Also, in the Dialogue Con- cerning Orators, supposed to take place about the same time, he de- scribes himself as in attendance at home and abroad on Marcus Aper and Julius Secundus, the most dis- tinguished men of our Forum. He writes: I heard them eagerly, not in the courts alone, for I attended them at home as well as in public, with a certain youthful ardor and wonderful liking for their pursuits, so that I not only listened to their sto- ries and dicussions, but had the bene- fit of their private declamations. From this he learned to express him- self, according to contemporary criti- cism, most eloquently and uqwcC (in a forcible and stately manner). While still a youth his promise was so great that Agricola, then consul and about to take command in Brit- ain, gave him his only daughter in marriage. We have every reason to think this marriage a happy one, for the traditions of the family as to the conduct of its women were of the old schQol. Agricolas daughter had be- sides a striking example of the best type of woman always before her in her mother, Domitia Decidiana, and of a happy married life in that of her father and mother, who lived in the THE ROME OF TACITUS. 23 greatest harmony, from mutual affec- tion each preferring the other ; only to the wife should be the greater praise for good conduct, as there is the greater blame for evil. Con- trary to the usual Roman custom, Tacitus seems to have adopted his wifes family as his own; and no own father could have called forth a more affectionate memorial than is his Life of Agricola. He probably owed his escape from destruction during the last years of Domitian s reign to the prudence and moderation of his father-in-law, who was not a noisy patriot, wasting his life for an empty boast of liberty, but a lover of his country, husbanding his strength to help his fellow creatures fallen on evil times. Agricola, upon his recall from Britain, avoided as far as possible the fame due to his successes. He en- tered Rome quietly at night, without announcing his arrival to his friends, and settled at once into the position of a private citizen, in order to avoid any public demonstration, which might compare unfavorably with the coun- terfeit triumph of Domitian, where German prisoners of war were repre- sented by slaves with their hair dyed yellow. He refused the proconsul- ship justlyhis due, and managed to live in retirement at Rome for some years, in spite of a prince hostile to virtues, 11i5 own renown, and,the most dangerous of enemies,those prais- ing him. Probably his death was caused by poison, although Tacitus generously allows that there was no proof of this beyond the suspicious interest in his sickness shown by a prince little given to sympathy. Constant swift messengers took the news of his failing moments to the prince, and no one believes that he would thus try to hasten tidings which he was sorry to hear. Agricola died not only without ac- cusing the prince, but making him a co-heir with the best of wives and most devoted of daughters. Domi- tians mind was so evil and corrupt from continual flattery that he did not perceive that a good father would make none but a bad prince his heir. He took his legacy with pleasure, rejoiced at the honor and good opinion shown, and left the be- reaved family to enjoy as much peace as was possible in that distracted time. The death of Agricola recalled Tacitus and his wife to Rome, after an absence of four years. Some writers speak of this absence as an exile, wishing to darken Domitians character whenever possible; but as in the year preceding their departure, Tacitus attained the pr~etorship and presided at the secular games as one of the quindecemviral college, it is more probable that he had some com- mand in the provinces, or, at the worst, retired prudently for a time before the growing difficulties of the princes temper. The grief of the young couple at their fathers death was embittered by the loss of his part- ing words and the rumor that his end was hastened, and that, in the course of nature, he might have been spared to them many years. The Life of Agricola closes with the following fine expression of those truths as to the sources of consolation in bere~ive- ment and the noblest means of hon- oring the dead, which will always strengthen and comfort sorrowing men and women: Thou art indeed happy, 0 Agricola, not only from the brilliancy of thy life, but from the timeliness of thy death. Those who heard thy last words say that firm and willing thou didst meet thy fate, as if thou wouldst save the pripee from blame as far as was in thy power. But thy daughter and I have, beside the grief of losing a father, this added bitterness, that we could not attend him in his sickness, nurse him failing and be strengthened by his coun- tenance and embraces. Surely we should have received words and commands to treasure deep in our hearts. What pain, what anguish, for us to have lost four years of his life by our absence! Doubtless all things, 0 best of parents, were done in thine honor by a faithful, loving wife; yet wast thou wept with too few tears; and thine eyes yearned for something with 24 THE ROME OF TACITUS. their last sight. If there is. any place for the spirits of the good, if, as wise men think, great souls are not destroyed with the body, thou shalt rest in peace and call us, thy household, from weak longing and unmanly lamentations to the thought of thy virtues, which it is wrong to mourn or bewail. Rather will we glorify thee by our admiration than by passing praises, and by eager emulation, if our weak nature will permit. This is true reverence, this the piety of nearest kin. I would bid the daughter and wife respect the memory of the father and husband by dwelling on his words and deeds and cherishing rather the form and manner of his mind than that of his body. Not that I would do away with images in marble and bronze; yet I think such likenesses of men are meaningless and perishable as their faces, while the form of the mind is eternal, and man can- not fix and express it by art in a material of a different nature, but only by his own character. Whatever we loved, whatever we admired, of Agricola, by the lustre of his life remains and will remain in the minds of men during the eternity of time. In such passages as these Tacitus sounds the full harmony of his char- acter, his affectionate piety in his family relations, his political integ- rity, and his reasonable hope of the continued life of the soul. The suf- fering endured in the few years fol- lowing Agricolas deathto all men of any note at Rome a time of slavery only tempered by suicidegave a tone of bitterness to his historical writings, in spite of his sincere desire to be unaffected by personal preju- dice. From this bitterness he is often likened to Carlyle; but his impatience with mankind seems more the result of unfortunate experience than an in- born instinct. If he could have lived always under the rule of a Vespasian or a Trajan, he would have accepted the fact that a republican government was no longer adequate to the neces- sities of the extended empire, and ac- quiesced in the rule of a good prince as the best government possible. We should then have lost those dissec- tions of character and motive whose keenness and terseness have never been surpassed. As haircloth next the skin kept the consciences of me- dkeval saints on the alert, so possibly dyspepsia was a mental stimulus for Carlyle; and the exasperation caused by Domitians tyranny sharpened and strengthened the intellect of Tacitus. A few pictures by contemporary writers of the lighter evils of these years, imagining always a back- ground of crime too foul for us to penetrate, will show the final expe- rience which formQd in Tacituss mind this conception of the judicial character of history: That it may reward virtue and make ill-fame with posterity a terror to men wicked in speech and action. At this time (A. D. 93) the em- peror, like an inhuman monster, lurked in retirement, gloating over the destruction of the noblest families. It was hard to tell whether admit- tance to his presence or exclusion from it was the more to be dreaded. He issued from his solitude to make a solitude about him, and hid himself again with his craft, his plots and an avenging God. Whether, as Men- vale would have us think, there was method in his madness, and he was really anxious to bring back his peo- ple to the honest ways of old times, and we shall see presently that there was need enough for this,or whether he desired to make a vica- rious atonement for his own sins by punishing the sins of others he was wholly misunderstood by his contem- poraries. His example being the basest possible, his precepts being hidden in his own breast, caprice, jealousy and natural cruelty seemed the only reasons for his deeds. The Senate, surrounded by sol- diers, sits speechless and trembling, ready to acquiesce in the destyuction of brave men and the exile of noble women. The city is filled with in- formers, till no man dare speak his mind, even to those most dear to him. The poor man is no more secure than the rich. Even the humble fisher- man, catching a turbot of monstrous size, dare not offer it for sale. Are not the shores crowded with spies, whose pursuit neither a naked fisher- THE ROME OF TACITUS. 25 man, nor even the seaweed on the rocks, can escape? These men will say at once: That fish is a stray one fattened in C~esars fish ponds and just escaped; it should go back to its former owner! Therefore the mas- ter of the boat and net must make a vit:tue of necessity and present his booty to the sovereign pontiff, lest it go for nothing. Though it is the sea- son of the year when sickly autumn yields to the frosts, when sick men hope to have their chills and fever reduced to every fourth day, and when whistling winter blasts would preserve his catch, still the poor fel- low hurries as if the south wind, fatal to fresh fish, were blowing, that he may distance the informers and have the merit of a free gift to the em- peror. Vice and terror have broken all family and social bonds. Few men believe in the gods, and those who do think that, though the anger of the gods is great, it is surely very slow, and their vengeance can be kept off by proper sacrifices. Accordingly the gold is scraped from the thigh of Hercules and even from the face of Neptune, and the family images, dis- guised by broken noses, are sold to provide luxuries for dinner or money to stake on the races. Money, though unenshrined, is the god who rules all men. What does the man who has been proved guilty of plundering a province care for the shame, if by some legal jugglery he can keep the spoilsor the guar- dian, whose ward is wandering in the street, if he has secured her for- tune ? As you stand. at a street corner the forger passes in his uncurtained litter borne on the shoulders of six stalwart slaves. He has made himself proud and happy by a little writing and a moistened seal. Then comes the powerful matron, who has mingled toads poison with the mild Calernian wine, to quench her husbands thirst, and better than Locusta shows her simple neighbors that husbands livid with poison may be buried in spite of public scandal. Next, he who gave aconite to his three uncles (Tigel- linus) looks down upon us from his suspended cushions. When he passes put your finger on your lips, for there will be a spy to hear you if you say Thats the man, and then you, with a hook in the throat, will draw a furrow in the sand. If Numa, or he who saved Minerva from her flaming temple, should ap- pear again, the first questions would be as to his income, the amount of his land and slaves, and the dishes served on his table. To be rich and child- less is the highest good. If a man with three children is in danger, who can be expected to sacrifice even a hen sick unto death for such an unprofitable friend? The expense is too great. Not even a quail is slaughtered for one who is a father. If rich and childless, Gallita or Pac- cius begin to feel a little feverish, very properly every temple porch is lined with votive tablets, and there are men who will promise hecatombs of oxen, not that their health, but their wills, may be affected by this instance of devotion. If the house of one of these powerful men is burned, before the flames have ceased he is over- whelmed with presents, until all he has lost is replaced by things more valuable; but the poor man may es- cape from his third story stark naked, and no one will give him as much as a covering. Last of all, poverty, bit- ter though it be, has no sharper pang than this, that it makes men ridicu- lous. The swarm of needy Greeks infest- ing the city interrupts the relation of patron and client. What if the poor man be zealous enough to hasten in his toga at break of day! Is not the house already filled with these wily foreigners, with smiles and tears at command, ready to play any part, grammarian, rhetorician, geometer, painter, trainer, soothsayer, rope- dancer, physician, wizard? Accord- ing to Gifford s version: 26 THE ROME OF TACITUS. All trades his own your hungry Greek- hug counts, And bid him mount the sky,the sky he mounts. Now and then some remnant of re- spect for ancient custom forces the patron to make a return for his clients homage. Then he gives grudgingly as little as possible, send- ing the client from his door with a meagre pittance to buy fire and rem- nants of food at a cook-shop. This duty done, the patron seats himself alone in selfish splendor, gorges him- self with peacock and other costly viands and goes too soon to the bath; hence sudden death without a will, and a funeral procession exulted over by disgusted friends ! If the client is admitted to the house lie is placed at a lower table, where he gnaws his mouldy crust, with perhaps a crab, or cabbage dressed with lamp-oil, for a relish, and washes it down with tepid water, while he is enraged by the sight of the master barely tasting and sending away mullet, lobster and asparagus, dainty salads, ice water and fine wines. Is it strange that, after such a Tantalus feast, the poor man hastens to give information which will land his patron on a desert island; or that he spies out what secrets he can, knowing that he will be Verres s dear friend who can accuse Verres at any time he pleases? In spite of facilities for divorce, which allow a woman as many as eight legal husbands in one year, marriage is not regarded with much favor. The satiristwho, by the way, was an old bachelor, reported to have been jilted in his youth says: Are ydu going to marry, 0 Posthumus, when high and dizzy windows are open to you and the A~milian bridge is near by? Your wife may prove a gossip, hurrying all day from one public place to another to collect the news; she may be su- perstitious, and squander your money on soothsayers and astrologers, and her time in poring over the entrails of chickens and puppies; or if she is strong minded, as soon as she has taken her place at table she will begin a dissertation on the poets, praising Virgil and excusing the suicide of Dido. Let not the matron who shares your bed possess eloquence, nor let her be able to drag out short arguments with rolling speech, nor know all histories; but let there be some things in books which she does not know. I hate her who ponders and recollects Pala~mons treatise, Who regards every rule and principle of grammar, who is a female anti- quary and quotes unknown verses to me, and blames the speech of her old- fashioned friend, which no man would notice. A husband should be allowed to commit a solecism. If a blue- stocking is bad, a rich woman is also unbearable. There is nothing a woman will not allow herself, nothing she thinks base, when she has plaqed emeralds about her neck and hung great pendants in her lengthened ears. Nor is her personal appear- ance, after the greatest efforts at adornment, more admirable than her temper; for her curls are piled high, so that she appears an Andromache in front and a dwarf behind, and her face is besmeared with cosmetics until she is disgusting to see. The vicious license of men and women in these last years of Domi- tians reign was unfortunately not unparalleled in the years preceding and following; but in these years, in- stead of a disgrace, it was a sure means of safety and preferment; while ability and a noble name must be hidden in seclusion or disguised by frivolous pursuits. Surely during this period, Tacitus, Pliny and their friends represent the remnant with which Matthew Arnold credits every age. Scattered and broken, they pre- served in their hearts the traditions of better times; although these too would have been lost, had it been as easy to forget as to be silent. Pliny spent this time in the country, near Rome, and if Domitian had lived a THE ROME OF TACITUS. 27 little longer would have been in great danger, for charges against him were found among the princes papers. Tacitus apparently remained in Rome, for he speaks of himself as participating in the degradation of the Senate. Our hands led Hel- vidius to prison; the sight of Mauri- cus and Rusticus and the innocent blood of Senecio filled us with hor- ror. But the opportunity of the Senate came when the blow of Stephanus had been struck. Nerva, one of the oldest and most amiable members of this body, was quickly proclaimed emperor. After a few struggles he appeased the pr~etorians, always jealous of the Senate, by choosing the soldier Trajan for his heir, and died opportunely, leaving all power in his hands. Trajan proved equal to the task of suiting both Sen- ate and soldiery, without yielding un- duly to either, and under his guidance the empire entered its Indian summer of power and glory. Pliny, with his easy, sanguine tem- per, soon felt entire confidence in the new regime and a strong personal affection for the emperor. But Taci- tus had been too much tried, and his nature was too inflexible to yield his cherished ideals to an enthusiasm for one man, however capable. He him- self says with sadness: Although from the very beginning of this happy age, Nerva Qesar has blended things formerly incompatible, the rule of the prince and the liberty of the subject, and Nerva Trajan daily increases the prosperity of the times; though now public security has not only our hopes and good wishes, but the strongest pledge of their fulfilment; yet from the nature of human weak- ness remedies work more slowly than disease, and our bodies are as quickly destroyed as they are slow in their growth; thus one can more easily crush our talents and studies than raise them again. We see the atti- tude of Tacitus toward the empire re- peated in that of Lafayette toward Napoleons government. Though the Roman state under Trajans rule was much nearer the ideal state of Taci- tus than Napoleons empire was to any form of government of which Lafayette had dreamed, they both felt that the opposition of the Fates and the heedlessness of the people pre- vented any realization of their visions, and that all that was left to them was a retired life, leaving the people to be governed as their ever-changing tem- per decreed. After a few more public appear- ances, Tacitus devoted himself en- tirely to his literary pursuits, which had more and more taken possession of his mind. He was consul in the second year of Trajans reign, and delivered the funeral oration of Vir- ginius Rufus, that remarkable man, who, after escaping many perils, lived to read poems and histories written about himself, to enjoy his fame with posterity, and whose crowning good fortune it was to have so eloquent a speaker for his eulo- gist. He was chosen with Pliny to impeach Marius Priscus for his abuse of power in Africa. They were thanked publicly by the Senate for their able conduct of the case, and their eloquence gained a victory against heavy odds of bribery; but Marius, though condemned to exile, saved enough of his booty to make this exile luxurious. We could say here of Tacitus, as of the hero of an old fairy tale: And he lived happily forever afterward. His time of trial was ended, and he had before him years of prosperous ease, in which to accomplish the literary work upon which his heart was set. He was the acknowledged leader of the charming group of men to whom Pliny introduces us in his correspond- ence and whose society is as refresh- ing after that depicted by Juvenal as the air of the Tuscan villa after the Suburra steaming with cook-shops. Plinys ingenious letters reveal to us the friends whom he addresses as well as himself. We find them cultivated, wealthy men, modelling their conduct a8 THE ROME OF TACITUS. on that of the Roman fathers, whose somewhat severe virtues they adorn with a human charity and kindliness exemplary to us even after our eighteen centuries of Christian train- ing. We can share their daily life and aims with very little exertion of the imagination, and spend, for instance, a day in the country, with Pliny, with- out any shock to our moral or ~esthetic sense. We leave our room, in the morn- ing, about eight or nine oclock, and join our host, who has spent the early morning hours in his cool, shady chamber, meditating a work he has in hand, and now and again calling his secretary to take down in shorthand a happy phrase or argument. He finds these quiet hours, when the mind is refreshed by the nights rest, the most suggestive for literary work. We spend the morning with our host, rambling about the estate, tasting the grapes, peering into the wine vats, and settling the disputes of the vil- lagers. If any of us wish more vio- lent exercise to make the baths acceptable, there are horses to ride and a tennis court. After the baths and an informal luncheon, we amuse ourselves as seems most agreeable to us, walking, driving, reading, sleep- ing or writing letters. Our host has business letters to write about the new public school, library or hospital which he is establishing at Como. Nor does he forget the spiritual wel- fare of his tenants; for he is planning to rebuild a temple of Ceres on his estates. He thinks he will act be- nevolently as well as piously if he builds a temple for the use of the god- dess and porches for the use of the people, who assemble in great num- bers on the ides of September and attend to much business besides their devotions. He asks Mustius to buy for him marble for the walls and floor, four marble columnswhat- ever he thinks suitableand a new statue of the goddess; for the old one, made of wood, is disfigured by age. The tone of all these letters is as mod- em as if they were dictated to a girl at a typewriter instead of to a white robed Greek slave with his waxen tablets. We meet the graceful, delicate Cal- purnia at dinner, who enters into all her husbands labors with admiring sympathy. She can also accompany his sonnets on the lyre, with a nice taste, though untaught except by love, the best master. The dinner is fresh and dainty, but without ex- travagant parade, and afterward we have music or acting; then, when we are quite refreshed, we stroll through the trim alleys of box and ilex, in the sweet-scented evening air, talking with our host and visitors, congenial friends, from the neighboring estates; and then to bed, to wake early the next morning to the enjoyment of another healthy, well ordered day. Slavery might pain us in some fam- ilies, but Pliny could never bring himself to take the mercenary view of his slaves, although his humanity might make him ridiculous to his harder neighbors. His slaves were well taken care of when sick; many of them were freed; and those who died in bondage were allowed to bequeath their treasures to other members of the household. This home which we have visited was not unique. Pliny tells us of friends as happily situated as himself; of husbands and wives living together in harmony for thirty or forty years, till separated by death. Tacitus was the acknowledged leader in this group of friends, ap- pealed to as an authority on all lit- erarv matters. Of course his life in the city differed in many particulars from Plinys country life; but the tone of the households was the same; the slaves happy, and the table modest but bountiful, so that all fared alike. Tacitus was more often burdened by the toga, and gave the hours which Pliny spent among his wine presses and peasants to his receptions, where all men interested in literature were eager to appear; but their hours of THE ROME OF TACITUS. 29 privacy were employed in the same manner, with reading, writing and study. The world was less varied then than now, and men who felt the same obligations of station and for- tune naturally lived similar lives; therefore if we say, after reading Plinys letters, This was the manner of life of Tacitus and his friends, I do not think our sense of perspective is so faulty as that of the schoolboy who, when reproved for mingling the adventures of ATheas and Julius Cresar, said, I thought all the Classics lived at the same time! Johnson and Boswell mean to so many minds only the dogmatic tea- drinker and his toady, that perhaps it is at the risk of lowering Tacitus and Pliny that we compare their friend- ship to that of the other pair of friends. Nevertheless, Plinys letters give an idea of a similar relation to one who likes to dwell on the great lexicographers brave struggle with poverty and disease and his final well earned position as leader among his contemporaries, and who feels that Bozzys friendship was true and unselfish, though that of a lesser mind for a greater and sometimes too gar- rulous and artless in expression. As we have only Plinys side of the cor- respondence, we may do him injustice in thinking him the dependent mind; it may be only his courtesy which gives the impression that he is writing up to Tacitus. It is evident that he selects his literary projects in par- ticular for Tacituss approval and sympathy. He asks him to select a teacher for the new school at Como from among the crowd of literary men attending his levees, and he de- scribes his plans in full; but he does not tell him of his building projects, nor of the charms and wonders of the country places which he visits. When he writes of a successful hunt, where he captured three boars, there is a tone of apology in the remark: I sat by the nets, but had my writing mate- rials with me ; and you will find that Diana does not wander more than Minerva on these mountains. The following letter shows clearly the pleasant relations of the friends: I have read your book, and marked as carefully as possible what I think should be altered and what suppressed. For it is my custom to speak the truth, and yours to hear it willingly, nor are any men more patient of blame than those who particu- larly merit praise. Now I await my book with your notes. What a delightful inter- change of services! How it pleases me that posterity, if it has any care for us, will always relate with what harmony, frank- ness and confidence we lived! It will be as rare as remarkable that two men, almost equal in age and rank, of some note in lit- erature (for I am forced to speak sparingly of you because I speak of myself at the same time), should have helped each others studies. When I was still a youth and you were in the prime of your reputa- tion and glory, I followed you and desired to be considered next to you, though with a long interval between. Although the time boasted brilliant minds, you seemed to mefrom some similarity of character, perhapsespecially easy and worthy of imitation. I am therefore the more pleased that, if there is any talk of literature, we are spoken of in the same breath. There are men who are placed above both of us; but what do I care how we are ranked, if only you and I are associated! In my mind that place is first which is next to you. You must have noticed that even in men s last wills we receive exactly the same legacies, unless the will is made by an inti- mate friend of one of us. All these things show that we love each other ardently. since our studies, habits, reputations and finally the judgments of men in their last moments hold us together with such bonds. Farewell Pliny never doubts for a moment the value of Tacituss record. He writes to him of his uncle: Although hePliny the Elderwas the au- thor of many and lasting works, yet the immortality of your writings will add much to the perpetuation of his name. Then follows the well-known account of the eruption of Vesuvius, which overwhelmed Pompeii and Herculaneum. Perhaps encouraged by the reception of this account, or led by the artless desire for fame which has always characterized the Latin race, he writes: I predictnor shall my prediction failthat your 30 THE ROME OF TACITUS. histories will be immortal. I say candidly, then, so much the more do I desire to be included in them. For if we usually take care to have our face portrayed by the best artist, ought we not to choose a writer and eulogist like you to set forth our works ? Then follows an account of his brave support of his colleague in the B~ebius Massa affair, and the congratulations of Nerva on his speech. We get an amusing glimpse, in the last sentences of this letter, of the struggle of his desire for fame with his real respect for history. You will make these things, such as they are, greater, more famous and more widely known; not that I ask you to go beyond the facts of the case,for history ought not to over- step the bounds of truth, and truth is sufficient for creditable deeds. It would be interesting to see whether or not Tacitus adopted this modern method of book making and gave his friend the little puff which was not asked, but the book in which it may have been is lost,and instead of Tacitus preserving Pliny for us, Pliny has preserved all that we know per- sonally of Tacitus. In his stately Roman home, sur- rounded by his friends and books, we have our last sight of the first of his- torians to apply the science of philos- ophy to the study of facts. It is pleasant to think that the good times must have outlasted him, though we do not know the date of his death. Many men with mature minds and a vast accumulation of facts have de- voted themselves to work in their libraries, and they and their friends have expected that the forthcoming book would be immortal; but such expectations have usually been unful- filled. Works compiled with infinite labor moulder in back rows and dusty corners, and when their author sur- vives it is by his correspondence or some chance book; but not even the faithful Pliny could desire for his friends histories greater success or longer existence than they have ob- tained. It is owing to them that we can share the life of the Roman world during a period of nearly eighty years. Fascinated we follow in the Annals the psychological drama of the life of Tiberius, which Macaulay calls a miracle of art, worthy to rank with Hamlet. We are introduced to a man of middle age, reaching power after a youth marked by the strongest contrasts: first an exile, then the em- peror s son-in-law, again exiled, and then called to share the emperors power and succeed him on the throne. We see this experienced man, with his cautious habits and conservative temperament, changed by the ser- vility of the Senate, the arrogance of his mother and the treachery of his friend, 2Elius Sejanus, from a toler- able ruler living in moderate state and taking a suitable part in affairs, to a tyrant diseased in body and mind, living a self-exile at Capri, where he was a slave to superstitious terrors and base pleasures. When a man of fifty-five, Tiberius would sit modestly at one side of the pr~etors tribunal, where, owing to his presence, many things were adjudged in snite of cor- rupt influence and the solicitations of powerful men. Twenty years later his favor and entreaties could not prevent Cocceins Nerva, a life-long friend, from preferring suicide by starvation to life under such a ruler. Tacitus is inclined to think that the early life was one of great dissimulation; and perhaps such a power of deception is no more astonishing than the power of evil which could so change a man in a few years. The sad story of the brave and up- right Germanicus is well contrasted with this dark, incomprehensibe one; and his consort, Agrippina, is the one fine character among the royal women, though she was too im- petuous, if love for her husband had not restrained her otherwise ungov- ernable spirit. Her daughter, the younger Agrippina, is even more THE ROME OF TACITUS. 3 clearly depicted; but she, although having the same indomitable will and great ambition as her mother, was re- strained by no sense of decency or affection. From the mutilation of the manu- script we see only a small part of the career of the half-witted Claudius, the puppet of his wives and freedmen, and only the closing scenes of the life of the wretched Messalina, endingwith her merited murder in the arms of the poor old mother whom she had de- spised in her prosperous days. We have all but two years of the life of Nero. He is simply the passionate, spoiled child, who first destroys the mother and tutors who have indulged him, and then, maddened by license and remorse, murders indiscrim- inately all who come in his way. He therefore cannot interest us like Tiberius by the constant changes of an enigmatical mind. Besides these occupants of the throne, we have the mass of consuls, senators, nobles and freedmen revolving around them, some honest and wise, others false and frivolous, but nearly all servile. Behind all these is the intangible Roman people, with its epigrams, which could make even Tiberius writhe, its superstitious regard for a comet, a thunderbolt, or the birth of a two-headed calf, and its constant de- sire for amusement and excitement. No public event takes place without our hearing criticism, censure or ap- plause from the crowd, exposed to few dangers from the meanness of their fortune. They laugh at being warned not to disturb the funeral of Augustus as they did that of the divine Julius, and ridicule the parade of soldiers, as if, forsooth, in order to ensure a quiet burial to an old prince, dying after a long reign and leaving an abundance of heirs, there must be a guard of soldiers ! Then, as the procession passes, they discuss his character and his domes- tic affairs. When Nero pronounces the panegyric of Claudius, the popu- lace do not refrain from laughter at the mention of his foresight and wis- dom, though the speech composed by Seneca showed much eloquence. Old men also remark that Nero was the first ruler who needed anothers eloquence. The Romans affection for Germanicus and his unlucky fam- ily never failed; but by their ill-timed demonstrations they hastened the de- struction which they feared, and they were forced often to lament: Breves et infaustos populi Romani amores Chateaubriand justly calls our at- tention to the coincidence of the birth of Tacitus and the first year of Neros reign: Ii paint derri~re les tyrans pour les punir comme le remords ~ Ia suite du crime. It is part of the eternal justice of things that the his- tories of Tiberius, Claudius and Nero, during their lifetime falsified through fear or adulation, should have been related after they were dead by a writer without anger or partiality. The one soft spot in their otherwise hardened natures was the desire for the good opinion of pos- terity; and here Tacitus has pierced them with unerring aim. As their shades have passed through the Tar- tarean gates, driven by the lash of the serpent crowned Tisiphone, so their dearly loved Fame, stripped of all embellishments, is pursued through the ages by Tacitus with his pitiless pen. By I. A. Coil. WHAT bring you, love, to my lonely heart In the mating days of spring? A lover true, and a little part Of the joy in everything; The budding grace of an early May, The thought of bees on a flowery way, Whose honeyed moments to you I bring, And offer them at your feet to-day And with the honey, the sting. What bring you, love, to my weary sight In the mellow month of June? An eye to look from the sombre night Back to the glory of noon; A vision of suns that never set On roses June shall never forget. Roses I bring; and withered and torn In winter winds, you shall know them yet For with them I leave the thorn. What bring you, love, to my listening ear When the autumn birds are gone? A beloved footstep coming near, And songs of the harvest done; The songs of a love as ripe and true As pippins red in the autumn dew; Songs of a reaper who worked alone That he .might bring a harvest to von And with it the brambles sown. What bring you, love, to my lonely life When the autumn zones are crossed? A sunny hearth and a cheerful wife. And what if the world is lost In a sea of whiteness overspread? And what if the autumn grass is dead? I bring the summer you treasure most: The love of June when June has fled And with it I bring the frost. 32 LIFES GIFTS. ENGLISH HISTORY IN WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. By Marshall S. Snow. To turn from a study of Canter- bury to a study of Winchester is an easy and a natural transition. Canterbury was the place where the re-christianizing of England began, if indeed England can be said to have been really Christian under Roman rule. It became, therefore, and has remained to our day, naturally and properly the head of the English Church. But scarcely had the mon- astery of St. Augustine been founded and the beginning made of the great church which was to be so closely connected with the future of Eng- land, when upon a site once occupied by a Christian church as early as the second century, where a second build- ing had stood during the reign of Constantine the Great, arose the walls of a third,a church called The Sanctuary of the House of Cerdic. This church became the general seat of the Saxon coronations, as West- minster in later times was of the Nor- man kings and their successors. For more than twelve hundred years, therefore, the site of Winche~ter Cathedral has been devoted to Chris- tian worship. Within its walls and un- der its pavement are the tombs and the bones of Saxon, Danish and Norman kings, princes, prelates. Here in un- marked graves or in splendid chantries rest Angevin, Anglo-Norman, Lan- castrian and Tudor prelates, princes and statesmen, and persons no less notable, men whose deeds are insep- arable from their countrys annals and whose memories are imperishable so long as history remains. Here then, as at Canterbury, suggestions come to the student of history worth many printed pages, bygone days become as yesterday, and the personages of whom we heard and read when we were children live and move and have a real being. It is interesting to see, as we read the details of early English history, of how much importance the old town and the old cathedral of Winchester were. Under the Roman rule of Britain, Winchester had little history, properly so called. The spade and the pick give us, to be sure, a few coins of the third and fourth centuries; and here and there have been found vases and utensils and pieces of tessellated pavements. Six Roman roads, also, which radiate from the city gates, show that Venta Belgarum, as the 33 WINCHESTER IN THE EARLY PART OF THE cENTURY. 34 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. Romans called the town, was an im- portant centre of the imperial power. The settlement, like other Roman camps, was in plan an oblong, rec- tangular camp, with the base to the east. There were fonr gates named from the cardinal points of the com- pass. Eastgate and Westgate were joined by a broad thoronghfare, still the High Street of the city. At right angles with this road ran a road from Northgate to Southgate, to the east of which the greater part of the town lay. Of the four divisions of the city, those to the south of the High Street were the most important. The tri- bunals of law were in thenpperpart,on the hill; and in the lower, in the val- ley, were the temples of the gods, the chief dwellings and the military headquarters. So when the West- Saxon kings built their castle and palace above and the chnrch below, they only followed the example set by their Roman predecessors. SErom the four gates of the city radiated six straight roads, leading to London, to the interior, and to the sea. What the history of this camp city of Venta Belgarurn was during those genera- tions of Roman dominion no one has recorded. Of the early years of Saxon rule we know little more. We have but a faint outline of historic fact during the shadowy reigns of the suc- cessors of Cerdic and Cymric, the re- puted founders of the West-Saxon greatness. They fight with Briton or Jute, and thus slowly win supremacy; and not until the middle of the seventh century does light come to Wessex, when the missionary Birinus connects the rude Germanic tribes with the civilized life of christendom. ~ANUTE. WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. 35 With the first breath of Christs religion, writes Dean Kitchen, his- tory begins to speak in low mysteri- ous tones. Although there had probably been a Christian church at Venta in Roman days, West-Saxon paganism alone remained when, in 634, Pope Honorius sent Birinus to evangelize southern and western Eng- land. Soon the king and his family were baptized. In the valley arose a church, the parent of the present cathedral, and by its side nestled a Benedictine mon- astery. Although this church, standing without doubt upon the site of the earlier Roman structure, disappeared centuries ago, we are fully justified in thinking that the cathedral of to-day stands on the very spot originally hal- lowed by St. Birinus to the wor- ship of God and in honor of Sts. Peter and Paul. From this time forward Winchester has a his- tory of its own, and one interwoven with the history of England. It be- comes, and for centuries remains, the English capital, the Royal City. Eg- bert, whose accession in 827 to the overlordship or kingship of the now united Heptarchy marks an epoch in English history, here proclaimed to his subjects his new authority. Here he died in 836, and his bones are said to lie even now in one of the beautiful chests on the choir screen of the cathe- dral. Then come the reign of Ethel- wulf and the life and influence of the kindly and sagacious St. Swithin, the saint of Winchester. Under the fostering care of Alfred the Great, Winchester became the home of all the learning and the arts of that day. Here the king guided and took part in those efforts which began the devel- opment of the English mind and language. In his translations and in his great work, the Chronicle, may be seen undoubted marks of his power and orig- inality. Win- chester may well be proud that within her confines Alfred made this first great his- tory-book of the English people. At the castle the earlier part of the work was compiled and copied; it was nothing more than a sim- ple record of facts down to the time of contemporary history. Copies of this earliest part went to different places, one to the scriptorium at Peterborough, another to the monks of Christ Church in Canterbury, and others elsewhere,the original manu THE DEANERY. 36 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. KiINti ALFRED. script being kept at Winchester, in Wolvesley Castle, fastened to the desk by a chain, that all who could read might study it as it grew from year to year. In the library of Corpns Christi College, Cambridge, may still be seen this very manuscript. Alfred himself wrote up this copy of the chronicle for abont twenty years, his work coming down to the year 891. In it, writes one, we have the first vernacular history of a Tentonic peo- ple; there is nothing like it in Ger- many nor in Scandinavia, nor among the Low Dntch. As we read it we stand at the fonntain-head of a liter- atnre, which in breadth, extent and splendor of masterpieces is sur- passed by none. The Peterbor- ongh copy, which was carried on until 1154 and then dies out in the middle of a sentence, was the little rnnnel throngh which onr mother tongne was safely conveyed through the wilderness of Norman oppres- sion. From Winchester also Alfred set in motion many of his plans for the benefit of his people. Here he issued the new code of Wessex law, made some fresh distri- bntion of land, and col- lected facts from every quarter, which he em- bodied in the earliest Doomsday Book. Upon the coast, at the harbor of Portsmouth, he built ships of a new type to meet the Dane, and with them fonght the famous sea fight in the Solent. To his capital he brought the captive crews, and judged and hanged them there. Alfred, whose life struggle ended in 901, was buried in the Old Minster; but unfortnnate ly the fear of his great- ness was too strong, and the canons of the church, scared and declaring that his ghost walked and gave them no peace, begged his son Edward to trans- fer his body to the New Minster, hard by. When, in uli, that monastery was removed to Hyde, just outside the city walls, the bones were also removed and buried in the new Abbey church. Finally, in the eighteenth century, when the ruins of Hyde Abbey were pulled down, the remains of the noblest of English kings disappeared forever. Two generations after the death of the great Alfred, during the reign of his grandson Edgar, there arose a powerful reforming bishop, Ethelwold by name. By him a new cathedral was begun, of wonderful fashion, in wrought stone. By the side of the masons labored the monks. So many the chapels, the chronicler tells us, so numerous the columns, that a man might easily be lost in the cathedral; and above all rose a mighty tower WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. 37 shining with burnished gold, crowned with a weatbercock, which filled the traveller coming down the hill into the city with amazement. Up there it stands aloft, says Wnlfstan, over the heads of the men of Winchester, and up in midair seems nobly to rule the western world. And then there was the wonderful organ, or pair of organs, with twelve bellows below and fourteen above, with seventy strong men as blowers, working with much TuE chOIR. 38 WINCHESTER CA THEDRAL. toil and noise of shonting as they cheered one another and filled the xvind chest. At two keyhoards sat two performers, in unity of spirit, ruling each his own aiphahet, for on every key was cnt, or perhaps painted, a letter indicating the note; and when the players hammered the key~ with clinched fists there came forth seven johilant notes. Like thunder, says the poet, their iron voice assaults the ears and drives out every other sonnd; nay, so swells the sonnd that as you hear you mnst clap yonr hands to your ears, unahle as yon draw near to ahide the hrazeu hellowing. All through the city the melody can he heard (for there was no glass in any window); and the fame and the echo of it spread throngh all the land. It must have heen, in- deed, a strange noise compared with the modern organ. A patron saint was needed; hut for this the church had hut to translate the remains of Bishop Swithin, which lay near by in the churchyard; and in 971 the cathedral was consecrated and the sacred relics were rehuried in a splendid shrine behind the altar. The story runs that the removal of the hody of the saint was delayed forty WINCHESTER CA THEDRAL. 39 days by continual rain; hence the rhyme: St. Swithins day, if thou dost rain, For forty days it will remain; St. Swithins day, if thou be faire, For forty days twill rain nae maire. Wulfstan, who may be trusted as a chronicler of this event, says nothing of this great downpour, which indeed could scarcely have hindered the re- moval from a grave only a few yards from the church door. This great occa- sion was celebrated by a banquet in brave English fashion. Many the dishes and the wine cups; all faces shine with joy. Thereisa dish for every one; and when all are satisfied, the tables still groan with viands. The flitting butlers run from hall to cellar, and urge the guests to drink, placing be- fore them huge bowls brimful with wines and liquors countless. The vigorous reign of King Edgar, under whom this important work was carried through, did much for Win- chester. Its commercial interests were greatly increased, until London was the only city in England that could pretend to be its rival. For centuries the well-known law, Let one weight and one measure be used in all England after the standard of London and Winchester, formed the basis of all trade, while it seems to set the two capitals on a footing of com- plete commercial equality. When in ioi6 the Witan chose Canute, the Dane, to be king over all England, Winchester became the centre of what may be called an im- perial dominion, stretching from Eng- land to Scandinavia. Canute and his wife Emma made many rich presents to the cathedral. Among others was the royal crown, which after the fa- mous scene on the seashore Canute vowed never to wear again, and which enoin AMBULATORY. 40 WINCHES TEN CA THEDRAL. he placed over the cross above the high altar, where it remained until with many another thing of glory it disappeared in the sixteenth century. In VvTinchester cathedral occurred the coronation of Edward the Con- fessor, the last of the Saxon line, and the last to use the city as the royal capital. After the Norman Conquest kings were always crowned at West- minster; but we read of several sec- ond coronations at Winchester, and all the kings of the Norman line and all the earlier Plantaganets looked upon the city with great affection and spent much time there. William I began a new royal castle. New Forest was depopulated in conse- quence of a command issued by him from hi. palace in Winchester. Thence came the Doomsday Book, ometimes c lled The Roll of Win- chester, in 1083. Here for several generations afterwards were the royal treasury and the royal mint and the repository of public records. The early Norman period in Eng- land was a great epoch in church building. The new lords of the land, strong and resolute, seem to have considered the cathedral, abbey and parish churches, built in the native English style, to be deficient in size and dignity. Many older buildings, therefore, were swept away, and new ones arose to express more clearly in stone the dominant ideas of the new masters. So, in the reign of the Con- queror, Bishop Walkelin, a kinsman of the king, began to rebuild this old church at Winchester, tearing away the cruder Saxon work and replacing it with the heavier and stronger Nor- man. Of the immense building which he finished in the wonderfully short space of fourteen years, only the transepts now remain unchanged. We are told by the chroniclers that Wil- liam granted the bishop as many trees in Hempage wood as he could fell in three days, with which to roof the nave. The bishop got together car- penters innumerable, and took off all the oak trees of the wood, leaving nothing standing there save the tra- ditional Gospel Oak, under which St. Augustine is said to have preached. The bare stem of this an- cient oak still stands; and by it yearly, when bounds were beaten, the parish priest used to read, until quite lately, the Gospel for the day. The trees are still to be seen in the roof of the nave above Wkyehams stone groining, and they are as sound as when they were first put in place more than eight hundred years ago, in ioS6. BISHOP WAvNFLETE. BIsnop WYKEHAM. A WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. 42 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. The city of Winchester was far more busy and populous then than now. Round about the whole were the old walls of the Romans, still strong and high. The civil war be- tween Stephen and Matilda in the middle of the twelfth century brought much trouble and commotion to Win- chester. It was occupied by each contending faction in turn. On one occasion, tradition says, Matilda xvas forced to feigning death and be- ing carried out on a litter for burial, in order to escape a besieging army. As a royal residence the town now lost much of its importance, although the royal treasury was still kept there. Richard Lion-Heart found valuables there on his accession worth nine hundred thousand pounds. From these brief notes we may learn how closely Winchester town, and of course Winchester cathedral, were always connected with the le~d- ing events of early English history. Here, too, the student of architecture may find interesting and varied ex- amples of English work, from the Saxon piers in the crypt to the late Gothic of the chantries and the Lady-Chapel. He will find there a building solid and substantial, simpleand grand. It may safely be asserted that for dignity and massi ye grandeur the~ exterior of Winchester will hold its own among English cathedrals; and yet as we enter the cathedral close by the nar- row passage which leads from the old High Street, we are al- ways struck by the great plain- ness and simplic- ity of the whole building, and at first sight cannot help a feeling of dis appointment, especially if we have just come from a study of Canterbury. We miss the decorated western towers and the south porch of Canterbury, with their wealth of ornamentation. We miss the glorious Bell-Harry tower. We do not at first appreciate the immensity of the build- ing, its great length, the height of the nave, nor the effect which the large transepts will produce as we study the building more carefully. The west front as we now see it WAYNFLETE cHANTRY. WINCHES TEN CATHEDRAL. 43 took the place some five hundred years ago of a Norman entrance with huge towers, which had been built in 1079, when Norman work took the place of nearly all the old Saxon building. It is plain, not imposing. The old Norman front must have been much more impressive. In Norman days this front projected far- ther into the close by forty feet, mak- ing the entire length of the church nearly 6oo feet. In the niche of the gable above the window is the statue of the famous Bishop Wykeham. Be- low is a stone balcony or gallery, from which the bishops gave their benedic-. tions to the people on festival days. Entering the church by the west door, we see before us one of the most impressive cathedral naves in the world. Not only are the proportions magnificent, but there is an exceed- ing grace in the piers and vaulting. 390 of the 555 feet which make the length of the entire building can here be seen not broken, as is often the case, by the organ, which here is placed under the north tower arch. Students of architecture will find here one of the most curious and interest- ing instances of transformation from one style of architecture to another that has been preserved to us; for, al- though at present a complete and per- fect specimen of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, it is yet, in the heart and core of its structure, from the ground to the roof, the original Norman building, begun if not com- pleted by Bishop Walkelin in the eleventh century. In the early part of the fourteenth century the walls and windows of the west end had been removed by Bishop Edington, and all traces of the Norman effaced. In the latter half of the same century, the famous William of Wykeham began the transformation of the nave from Norman to Perpendicular. The word transformation is the only cor- rect term here; for the Norman core was left in the piers and walls, and in many places the Norman ashlaring also. The piers separating the nave from the aisle are twelve feet wide, and the central space is only thirty- two feet; yet with all this, writes Fergusson, there is nothing heavy, but, on the contrary, it is perhaps the most beautiful nave of a church either in England or elsewhere. Canter- bury was building at the same time that these changes were going on at Winchester, but there the old Norman IZAAK WALTON. BIsnop GAROINER. 14 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. nave was entirely pulled down; con- sequently the monidings are lighter and the piers more slender than those of Winchester. William of Wykeham, who rebuilt nearly all the nave, is the prelate who of all the bishops of Winchester has most closely associated his name with the city and the cathedral. Born of humble parents, he had the good for- tune to attract the attention of the governor of Winchester Castle, who, after educating him at Oxford, pre- sented him to Edward III in 1346. He was especially skilled in architec- ture, and for twenty years was busy designing and directing the buildings and defences of t h e numerous royal castles. His work at Windsor was the real foundation of his fortunes. He seems to indicate this by an ambig- uous Latin in- scription on one of the towers at Windsor, which translated runs, This made Wyke- ham. Given vari- ous ecclesiastical preferments, he was finally made bishop of Win- chester and chan- cellor of Eng- land. He became involved in the troubles of the last years of the reign of Ed- ward III, but was brought again in- to favor before the death of the king. The last years of his life were devoted to founding secure- ly, by means of his vast riches, New College in Oxford and a school in Winchester, which remains as one of the most efficient of the so-called public schools of England. Wyke- ham lies buried in a beautiful chantry at the right as we walk up the nave. The choir is reached by a flight of eleven steps. Here we are surrounded with historic names and memorials. High aloft, supported upon the stone screens which separate the east end of the choir from the choir aisles, are six gilded chests or shrines, rich in the variety r nd excellence of their details and workmanship. By their inscrip- tions and coronal summits they recall vividly the Anglo-Saxon monarchy, THE NAVE. WINCHESTER CA THEDRAL. 45 the fonnders of the cathedral and of the West-Saxon power. On the sonth side are said to be the bones of Edred and Ed- mnnd of the tenth centnry; next to these those of the great Dane, Ca- nnte, the same who so discomfited his overzealons conrt- iers when the sea and tide refnsed to obey him. It was after this lesson in morals to his conrt that Cannte, as already noted, placed his crown over the high altar of Win- chester and then presented a new cross set with jewels. On the north side the remains of Egbert, the first to NORTH TRANSEPT. jilL ~,KYil. reign over a nnited England, are snp- posed to rest in another mortnary chest like its neighbors. Then there are the bones of Emma of Normandy, the qneen of Cannte; Ethelwolf, father of the great Alfred, and one box fnll of a miscellaneons collection of bones belonging to varions princes and prel- ates, which had been scattered abont and werQ bronght together in 1642. Whether or not these chests really hold the re- mains ascribed to them in the inscriptions, they give the strangest air of reality to characters and events familiar to readers of English history. Jnst ontside the choir, in the north aisle, is said to lie the last Danish monarch, Hardicannte, who died at Lambeth in 1642 and was bronght here for bnrial. In the sonth wall is William the Conqnerors son Richard, who was killed in io8i in the New Forest. Under the pavement before the high altar sleeps Bishop Henry de Blois, grand- son of the Conqneror and brother of King Stephen. Under the tower, in a 46 WINCHES TEN CA THEDRAL. marble sarcophagus, is said to rest classes. So when he fell in the midst the body of the Red King, the second of his sport, perhaps by the hand of of the Norman line. We are told that Tyrrel, we are not surprised that the in bodily form and in mental qualities people of Winchester and the monks he was a sort of caricature of his father, of the cathedral, who record their the Conqueror. He was of medium words, rejoiced that the oppressor of stature, and his form was thick and the Church had fallen on the very site square. His bodily strength was of one of the churches that had been great, his eye was always in motion, uprooted to make way for his pleas- ures,that the king whose life and reign had been that of a wild beast had perished like a beast among the beasts. This has been the abid- ing impression which the death of William Rnfus made. His death is one of those events in English history most fa- miliar to every memory, and so in popular remem- brance the Red King lives not in his life but in his death. Of all the endings of kings in our long his- tory, writes Mr. Freeman, the two most impressive are surely the two that are most op- posite. There is the death of the king who fell snd- denly in the height of his power by an unknown hand in and his speech was stammering, es- the thickest depths of the forest; pecially when he was stirred by anger. and there is the death of the He often showed readiness of wit, but king who, fallen from his power, had no continued flow of speech. The was brought forth to die by the stroke bright yellow hair of his race and his of the headsman, before the windows ruddy countenance won for him the of his own palace, in the sight of his well-known surname, which was used people and of the sun. When the even by contemporary writers as a king, forsaken by his nobles and com- proper name. His cruelty and op- panions, lay dead in the forest, there pression made him hated by all were none, save a few churls, charcoal WAYNFLETE dHANTRY. WINCHESTER CA TREDRAL. 47 burners, whom Rufus had de- spised, to lay the bleeding body on a rnde cart, to cover it with coarse cloths and take it, dripping blood as it went, to the gates of Winchester. He who basso dearly loved the sport of the woods writes one, was himself borne from the woods to the city like a savage boar pierced by the hunting- spear. His wicked life, his awful death, made men feel that to him the rites of a Christian burial would be of no avail. A great crowd of all orders, ranks and sexes met the hum- ble funeral procession at the west door of the Old Minster and followed the BEAUFORT cHANTEY. corpse into the church. The dead man had been a king; he had been consecrated with the holy oil. They would not deny him a grave within hallowed walls; but no bell was rung, no mass was said, no offerings were made for the soul of him who was thought to have put himself beyond even Gods mercy. None wept for him, says an old writer, but the hirelings who re- ceived his pay and the baser partners of his foul vices. A few years later the tower under which he lay crumbled and fell. Men said it fell because so foul a corpse lay beneath it. A little more than a hundred years after the dismal funeral of Rufus, the choir of Winchester saw a very dif- ferent sight. In a chair in front of the high altar sat Pandulph, t h e legate of Inno- cent III, and be- fore him knelt RUIN5 OF cLOIsTERs. 48 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. si~uu~ WILBERFORCE. John of England, son of the Henry who humbled himself before the shrine of Becket. With his hands be- tween the hands of Pan- dulph, John promised to be the Popes man, and degraded England to be a fief of the Holy See, thus completing the act which had been begun at the Templars House in Dover. A fanatic called Peter of Pomf ret had prophesied that John would cease to reign be- fore Ascension Day. That festival of the Church fell, in 1213, on the sixteenth of May. On the fifteenth Johns act of homage was per- formed, and on the six- teenth he hanged Peter as a false prophet; but the people said he was a tine prophet, for John had indeed ceased to reign in doing fealty to the Pope. Two years later came the Great Charter, wrested from John by the barons, whose patience was exhausted by the train of evils that the submission of the king to Pandulph had brought upon England. Thus, turn which way we will, some event of supreme im- portance in English history is brought to our minds in the choir of Win- chester. Leaving the choir and passing up the south aisle towards the east, on our right we see in the middle of the south transept a beautiful monument to Bishop Wilberforce, who died about twenty-five years ago, a man universally admired as well as univer- sally known. His episcopate left on the whole Church of England the abiding impress of his own earnest spirit and extraordinary genius. He was not buried here, nor at West- minster, as some supposed would be the case, by the side of his illustrious father, the great philanthropist, but in the village churchyard, on the same slope where many years before he had TOMB OF BISHOP WILBIIRFUKLII. WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. 49 laid the remains of his beloved wife. In this transept is also the grave of one whose name is a familiar one, Izaak Walton, whose genial soul is so clearly seen in the Complete Angler and the Lives. We pass on through. the gate which opens into the space behind the choir. This space was once a chapel, but is now occupied by the splendid chantry of Bishop Fox on the south and the similar one of Bishop Gardiner on the north side. Fox was the bishop who preceded the famous Wolsey in the see of Winchester. This chantry was built by him to serve as his tomb. We can see his effigy lying in the recess in the second compartment of his tomb, representing him as in the last stages of emaciation, the feet resting against a skull and the head on a mitre. This would show, he thought, the nothingness of the body when de- prived of the animating spirit. To Fox the cathedral owes not only this exquisite chantry, but the completion of the great screen, the clerestory and the roof of the choir. For ten years before his death Fox was infirm and blind, and lived at peace, bountiful and beloved by all. There is a tradi- tion that he was led daily by his chap- lain into the cathedral, and guided up the steps in his chantry; there he was left to sit and meditate on the checkered incidents of his past life and the unknown future which lay be- fore him. Beyond Foxs chantry are two more beautiful specimens of that style of architecture, the chantries of Cardinal Beaufort on the south and of Bishop Waynfiete on the north. Under the gorgeous canopy of Beau- forts chantry is an altar tomb, on which lies the figure of the cardinal in the dress of his rank, hat and all. This is the Beaufort, a son of John of Gaunt by Catherine Swynford,half brother, therefore, to Henry IV, whom Shakespeare calls, in the play of Henry VI, haughty cardinal, More like a soldier than a man of the church. His name appears very often in the annals of many stormy years. He was one of the commission which in 1431 tried and condemned Joan of Arc. It was he who arranged the marriage of the young Henry VI with Margaret of Anjou, in the interests of the party which was tired of the war with France. In the second part of Henry VI, Act III, Scene 3, Shakespeare makes the deathbed of Beaufort a terrible illustration of the power of remorse and despair. Thus the cardinal is made to say: If thou best Death, Ill give thee Eng- lands treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain. Then after a speech full of the ravings of despair comes silence, and the king says: Peace to his soul, ift Gods good pleasure be! Lord Cardinal, if thou thinkst on heavens bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. He dies and makes no sign;O God, forgive him ! This scene of Shakespeare is one of those which, as has been well said, stand in the place of real history, and almost supersede its authority ; but the truth is that, so far from dying and making no sign, Beauforts deathbed was peculiarly calm and col- lected. We may at least take leave of him in the words of the good king: Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. In his effigy, as it lies in his stately chantry, we note the powerful and selfish characteristics of the face, and especially the nose, large, curved and money-loving. In the Lady Chapel, at the extreme east end of the church, may be seen the chair in which Mary Tudor sat on the day of her unfortunate mar- riage with Philip of Spain, who so ill repaid the generous love which she 50 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. gave him; for the poor queen gave her whole heart to this ugly youth, while his soul was set only on his religious and political aims. For both prince and queen the marriage was a miser- able failure. Yet, for the time, the splendid pageant of Winchester cathe- dral marked the high tide of Catholic hopes. England returning into the old ways, France neutralized, Ger- many much divided, the Netherlands soon to be forced back into ortho- doxy, all looked well for the cause. The reformers were divided and scattered; the reactionaries had a new organization in the militant Jesuit order, and a revived headship in the re- formed Papacy. No wonder that Philft looked forward to the day when he should trample down those common folk who dared to resist the forces of authority. The struggle thus be- gun lasted for more than a century, clos- ing in the dreary com- promise of the Peace of Westphalia, far away from tranquil Winchester. We leave the Lady Chapel and go to- wards the west, down the north choir-aisle. At our left is another splendid chantry, not unlike those which we have already seen. This is the tomb of Bishop Waynflete, the immediate successor of Henry Bea~u- fort. A very different man was he, however, from the ambitious, money- loving cardinal. Though he lived in the time of the hottest civil wars, he showed no desire to take a part in politics and gave no offence to party leaders. He was a strong believer in the Lancastrian cause, but his noted fairness of mind kept him on good terms with the Yorkist king, Ed- ward IV, who gave the bishop much help and kindly encouragement in his great educational work, the founding of Magdalen College at Oxford. Perhaps it was because of his wise di- rection of the affairs of Winchester that his city played so unimportant a part in the War of the Roses. Wyke- ham, l3eaufort and Waynflete, three great bishops, held the see for one hundred and twenty years. Still farther to the west is the chantry and tomb of the many-sided Gardiner, the last of the proud series of statesmen bishops of Win- chester. He was one of the prelates who desired reform within the Church, a man full of modern ideas, interested in the re- vival of classical learning, clever, re- ceptive and ambitious. He clung to the old Church while others joined the new move- ment, and has always been regarded some- what harshly as the chief in the vehement attempt at repres- sion. No wonder that his career, as we study it, has a checkered look. Gardiner followed Wolsey, the great minister and churchman of the earlier years of Henry VIII. Win- chester seems to have been for the great cardinal only one of many sources of income and consideration. He held the see only two years and seems not to have visited the town during that time. After Gardiner the bishops ceased to be rulers in the land, and lay statesmen take their places. The variety, the strength and the beauty of church architecture at dif MEMORIAL TO JANE AUSTEN IN WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. WJNCHES TEN CA THEDRAL. 5 ferent periods in the history of Eng- land can be seen nowhere better than in the great church at Winchester. More of the earlier work remains than in most other places. Something has been left at each change or transfor- mation, to show us clearly the steps taken during the period of transjtion. In the crypt may be seen evidences of the massive character of the founda- tions laid by the old architects. There are some huge square pillars which some say are remains of the first or Saxon cathedral; and in other places may be seen the great Norman arches and pillars, heavy enough to support any huge medkeval fortress. In the north transept we see the original Norman work, scarcely changed since the days of William the Conqueror. From this we may form a good idea of the original nave before the recon- struction of Wykeham; for the height and form of the piers, with the capi- tals and arches, correspond with those in the time of the Red King. And then in the beautiful nave, curiously transformed by the great architect bishop, is one of the most interesting and impressive illustrations of ecclesi- astical Gothic. The exterior of the cathedral is vastly more interesting to us as we look back upon it after a study of its interior; and as we see how carefully in these days this wonderful reposi- tory of English relics is kept in order, how reverently our generation re- gards its history, we can understand how glad Englishmen, as we Amer- icans too, may be that the Reforma- tion, the Puritan revolt against for- malism and later social revolutions have spared this noble structure. Thus far we have studied chiefly the great church and its connection with the history of England; and it is here of course that the great interests of Winchester gather. Some incidents should be noted, however, even in this imperfect sketch, in which the town has had a share since the earlier times which have already been referred to. It was in Winchester, in the hail of Wolvesley Castle, overlooking the town from the west wall, that the trial took place of eleven men charged with being concerned in certain trea- sonable plots, headed by Brooke, Cobham, Grey of Wilton and Sir Walter Raleigh. Everybody knoxvs what a farce this trial was and how it ended in nothing; but it was followed by long years of imprisonment for Raleigh. It was during the poets stay at Winchester that this noble and beautiful little poem was written, which is worth quoting for its intrinsic value as well as for its connection with the present subject of study: Give me my scallop shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory (hopes true gage), And thus Ill take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my bodys balmer No other balm will here be given Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer, Travels to the land of heaven, Over all the silver mountains, Where do spring those nectar fountains. And I there will sweetly kiss The happy bowl of peaceful bliss, Drinking mine eternal fill, Flowing on each milky hill. My soul will be a-dry before, But after it will thirst no more. Winchester from its situation nat- urally became involved in the civil war of the time of Charles I. In the latter part of the year 1642, the first serious mishap that befell the king was at Winchester; for Portsmouth fell into the hands of the party of Par- liament, and their forces pursuing the retreating Royalists entered the old Royal City, the castle even being taken after a brief resistance. The troops had their way with the Pa- pists and the Sweet Cathedralists, carrying off and burning books, pic- tures and all sorts of ornaments. A chronicler who was a frieiqd of the king tells us how they broke into the church and rushed in through the great west door, invading God Him- 52 WINCHESTER CA THEDRAL. selfe as well as His profession, with colours flying, their drums beating, their matches fixed, and some of their troop of horse also accompanied them in their march, and rode up thronglL the body of the church and the chancel till they came to the altar. Here they pulled down the ancient carved work in both wood and stone, and ruined the organ. Then they did much damage to the chantries so beautifully ornamented, and brake in pieces Queen Marys chair, in which she had sat at her marriage with Philip of Spain. While much dam- age was doubtless done at Win- chester as well as elsewhere by these raids of the Puritans, we must not for- get that an earlier Cromwell, a century before the great Oliver, had already swept away statues and all objects of worship, and that the Puritans on the whole did comparatively little mis- chief. It is of interest as we are study- ing the cathedral to note that an offi- cer in the Parliamentary army, who had been educated at the college of Winchester, stood at the doorway of Wykehams chantry and prevented serious harm to that lovely structure. Twice, however, the soldiers ran- sacked the library and there did ir- reparable damage. They scattered the records and carried off many books and manuscripts, some of which were never recovered. Waller, who was in command of the Puritan army, soon marched away, and the town came once more into the hands of the king. In March, 1644, Waller came back and again threatened the Royal City, which however did not yield until Oliver Cromwell encamped not far from the Westgate, by an en- trenchment known to-day as Olivers Battery. The town was taken, the castle was given to Sir William Wal- lerWilliam the Conqueror, his friends called himand the palace of Wolvesley was ruined. Very little harm was done to the cathedral or to the college. No bishop or cardinal was molested in his chantry, nor was the image of the Virgin an4 Child over the entrance to the college dis- turbed,and it still looks down upon us as we enter the gateway. When the Restoration came, the city and church of Winchester found themselves in a sad plight; but time made things better, and the reign of Charles II was a busy time in the Royal City. Charles came often to this place, which had suffered so much from its loyalty to his father, and he seems to have had it in mind to con- struct a magnificent approach to the cathedral; but these plans were never carried out. Among the residents of Winchester at this time were many people whose names are of interest to us even now. Among them we find the aged and saintly Bishop Morley, the brave and manly Thomas Ken, who lost none of the respect of the king by standing firm in condemnation of his vices, and the stout old fisherman, Izaak Walton, who died at the great age of ninety, in 1684 and was buried, as noted, in the south transept of the church. After the defeat of Monmouth in 1685, Winchester was the scene of one more tragedy, the last of importance in its history. Here in the market place was beheaded, by order of the infamous Jeffreys, the kind-hearted Alice Lisle, whose only offence was that she had shown mere ordinary hu- manity towards two poor defenceless partisans of Monmouth. Since then the old city has had but slight connec- tion with the stirring events of Eng- lish life. The Winchester of to-day, in its quiet and peaceful appearance, gives little sign of the days when, as the Royal City, the city of Alfred the Great, it stood at the head of Eng- land, surpassing in political influence even London itself. In many other cities, which were once centres of po- litical influence and historic interest, modern demands have pushed aside all relics of ancient days; but Win- chester has in this respect been for- tunate, lying as it does outside the main stream of industry, and has been MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES 53 able to preserve old things and old ways while still preserving a quiet and reasonable prosperity. To have been the capital of Wes- sex. writes Dean Kitchen, to have welcomed in her earlier days the ar- rival of every prince and prelate of great name, for a while to have been the chief city of England, the home of the great Alfred, the refuge of let- ters, the mother of English public school life,-these are the titles on which the city rests her high renown, and these are the memories amidst which she lives. . . . It is notin death, but in the beautiful tranquillity of old age, that Winchester reposes in her sweet green valley, low down amidst the swelling hills that compass her about. No English city has a nobler record in the past, nor a life more peaceful in our rushing, hasteful age.~r THE MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES OF THE UNITED STATES. By Jane Marsh Parker. HAPPY those Arab commentators who, according to Renan, might write history unimpeded by de- mands for verification, to whom fact, tradition, rumor and opinion were as one in the main,their frequent use of There are those who say and of There are others who say, followed by the commentators acknowledged doubt, Allah alam (God only knows), provoking no captious criti- cism, the reader graciously accepting the responsibility of deciding what was fact and what was fiction, or neither, o~ both. It was a method that must have made the writing of history very like that of writing romance. An account of that one of the many plots of the French Revolution for the rescue of the royal family of France which was to hide them, for a while at least, in an asylum in the United States, has never before been written. This attempt to tell the story from con- flicting traditions, inaccurate annals and oral hearthstone talesa rock of fact here and there for a bridge of hy- pothesisconvinces the writer that the methods of the old Arab commen- tators are admirably adapted for the subject in hand, so frequently is au- thentic verification lacking where most needed. The history of the French Revolu- tion, wrote Carlyle, has generally been written in hysterics; . . . it is nothing but an inarticulate hum, a dis- tillation of Rumor; . . . search as we will these multiform innumerable French records, darkness too fre- quently covers, or sheer distraction bewilders; . . . it is a hubbub of ~Toices and bewilderment. The contemporaneous records of the Terror, those relating to the countless plots for the rescue of the 54 MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. royal family, are most bewildering of all, written as they frequently were in cipher or misleadingphraseology. The Diary of Gouverneur Morris reveals far less of the American plots with which he was connected than if a key had been given to enigmatical entries intended to conceal and mislead. Writ- ers of fiction have found in the many plots for the rescue of the royal family from the guillotine an inexhaustible mine, fragmentary and scattered as are the dews to many of the most fa- mous conspiracies; and yet no one has woven into a romance the good ship Sally of Wiscasset, Madame La Val of Frenchmans Bay, and the Kings House and the Queens House in the forests of Pennsylvania. According to many historians of the French Revolution, the plot- tings for the rescue of the royal family began soon after that terrible day at Versailles, June 20, 1792, when the mob forced the king to wear for a while the bonnet rouge. Facts at the basis of our story prove that no later than 1792 a plot for giving Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette a refuge in the New World had matured in detail that the Vicomte de Noailles, an e~migr~ of distinction, was in Phila- delphia that summer doing all in his power to open a refuge for his dis- tressed countrymen emigrating by thousands to the United States, and that the Kings Hoi~ise at the Standing Stone on the Susquehanna had been planned, if not begun, as the nucleus of a French colony. Paris was full of plots in 1792. The list of the most notable includes those of prominent leaders of the day, Mirabeau, Lafayette, Demourez, Ma- dame de Sta~A, Gouverneur Morris, Count de Fersena long list. Arthur Young* wrote from Paris not long after, If any serious plots have been laid, posterity will be much more likely to have information of them than this age,so imperative was secrecy on the part of the conspira- tors. Even Alexander Hamilton, in * Travels, Arthur young, London, 1794, p. 285. writing to Gouverneur Morris, in June, 1792,* soon after the appoint- ment of Morris as United States min- ister to France, suggested the adop- tion of fictitious names for well known personages, in their confidential cor- respondencesupplying a list to be followed. In the year 1789, one Bennett~ Claude de St. Pry, of Lyons, France, landed at Wiscasset, Maine, for the purpose of establishing salt works at Jeremy Squam, on the Sheepscot, now known as Edgecomb Island. There are those who say,t from familiarity with the early annals of the Sheep- scot and the records and traditions of the descendants of De St. Pry (or Pri~), that he was an official of the French government, then in the pre- liminary throes of the Revolution, and that he had been stationed at Wiscas- set ostensibly in the interests of the salt works, but that his real business was to keep a sharp outlook upon American affairs and report the same, with the progress and results of the ideas of the American Revolutionto act, in fact, as a sort of picket guard of France. Some fifteen years before De Prys arrival, there had been built out on the north point of Squam, on the site of the old Indian trade station and colonial garrison, a great manor house, a conspicuous landmark of the harbor, the house that has much to do with this story after it became known as the old Clough house. It had been built in 1774, by one of the prosperous sea-captains of the port, Captain Decker,a stately mansion in the Virginia plantation style, with wharves, warehouses and docks on the Sheepscot shore, then a great ship- ping point for the timber rafts floated down the river from the pine forests of Maine. For years after the events narrated in this article, it was a de * Sparks, Gouverneur Morris, vol. I, p. 373. Sewalls French Occupancy of the Sheepacot. 5ewalls paper, A Refuge for Marie Antoinette in the United States, published in Col. Maine Hist. 5c., July, 1894. Tracking a Romance, published in Boa/on Herald, 5eptember, 1893. MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 55 serted homestead, having a weird in- terest from the accepted tradition that it had once been the storehouse of a cargo of goods belonging to Marie Antoinette. Captain Decker, soon after De Prys arrival, became a partner in the French salt works, also carrying on an extensive lumber trade with France. Colonel James Swan of Bos- ton and his agent, General Henry Jackson, names conspicuous in the annals of Boston, had large interests in the concern. Upon the death of Captain Decker in 1792, one Captain Clough, already engaged in this French shipping business, bought the great house, succeeding Decker as Swan and Jacksons Wiscasset oper- ator. Here it is that we first hear of the Sally of Wiscasset, and her part in the French salt and lumber trade. Wiscasset, Maine, was a port of no small importance in those days. For many years it had been the centre of an extensive foreign ship timber trade. It had exceptional booming facilities for the giant masts cut from the pine forests at the head of the Sheepscot and its estuaries and borne from its docks to the great shipyards of the world. The masts of the Con- stitution (Old Ironsides) were sent from Wiscasset to Boston (where her keel was laid in 1797), under the supervision of General Henry Jack- son. French commerce had been ac- tively engaged in the Sheepscot long before the War of Independence. France had lost a war ship off Squam in 1778, the Lafayette, twice captured by the English. Colonel James Swan* had been a soldier of the War of Independence, secretary of the Board of War of Massachusetts, and was a man of pub- lic affairs. To mend his broken for- tune, he went to France in 1789, be- coming a resident of Paris, General Henry Jackson and Captain Clough+ ~ See Drakes History of Roxhury, Mass., pp. 135138. See Report of Boston Record commission for i88o. 5 Sewalls Ancient Dominions of Maine gives a vig- nette of Wiscasset village and harbor, with the site of the old dough house. representing him in Boston and Wis- casset. One glance at France in the year 1789, the year of the establishment of the French salt works on the Sheep- scot. That was the memorable year of the meeting of the States General, King Mirabeau declaring for the third estate: Nothing but the force of bayonets can send us home. It was the baptism year of democ- racy, when the country was ablaze with burning chateaux, seigneurs were emigrating by thousands, princes of the blood among them, sixty thousand emigrants in Switzer- land alone. The French aristocracy was largely represented in the army of France, and many of its leading offi- cers had served in the American War of Independence. If the king fly, it was said, there will be an invasion of the co-allied armies, aided by the ~migr~ chivalry of France. If the king is not rescued, he and his fam- ily and sympathizers will be put to death. How can they be delivered? Where is the safe refuge for the king and the queen? How naturally the officers of the army who had served in the United States (and many of them were suspected of royalist sym- pathies) looked to the New World for the asylum sought! Prominent in Paris at this time was Gouverneur Morris of New York, a leading American statesman and the personal friend of General Washing- ton. After honorable public service in various capacities duiing the War of Independence, Morris, like Colonel Swan, had embarked in extensive mercantile speculations. He had gone to Paris in i789 as the agent of Robert Morris, then speculating ex- tensively in the wild lands of Pennsyl- vania. There was no blood relation- ship between Robert and Gouverneur Morris. They were old friends, with many interests in common. In 1792 Gouverneur Morris had been ap- pointed minister plenipotentiary of the United States to the Court of France. His Letters and Diary show 56 MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. his close social relationship with La- fayette, Abbd dAutun (Talleyrand), Madame de Stahl, the Duchess dOr- ldans, Duke de La Rochefoucauld and the members of the Kings Council officials of the government and leaders of prominent factions generally. Colonel James Swan was also in Paris at the time, and, like Gouverneur Morris, a frequenter of the house of Lafayette. It is a reunion of old comrades-in-arms. William Short was then American charg~ daffazres at Paris. In a letter from Morris to Short, February 20, 179o,* mention is made of a conference with Lafayette, Mr. Swan and Colonel Walker, re- specting a decree giving French ship- ping a preference over American, Swans opinion in the matter under discussion having much weight. Mr. Swan is frequently mentioned in the letters of Gouverneur Morris at that time. He writes to Thomas Jefferson, February 26, 1791, of dining at La- fayettes to meet Mr. Swan, Colonel Walker and an American, whose name he forgets, but he was some- thing in the consulate at New York. There is no lack of proof to show that many of the famous plots for the rescue of the royal family depended upon the aid of Lafayette. He was then at the head of the army of France; his cousin, Bouilld, in com- mand of the frontier garrison of Metz. Bouilld was another of the French of- ficers who had served under Washing- ton. Marquis de Bouilld, wrote Carlyle, is a determined loyalist, not indeed disinclined to moderate re- form, but resolute against immoder- ate. Fly to I3ouilld! was the cry of the plotters generally. That meant flight over the border and away from France. There are those who say, historians of repute, that Lafayette and Bouill~ were by no means inac- cessible to royal sympathizers, pro- vided of course infinite tact and se- crecy could be depended upon; that Lafayette would and could have ac * See 5parks, Letters Gouverneur Morris, vol. II, jI. 103. complished the wished-for rescue more than once, save for the antipathy of the queen to himself. It were bet- ter to perish, she is reported to have said to Madame Campan, than to owe safety to a man who has done us the greatest harm,to place ourselves under the necessity of negotiating with him. Marie Antoinette stands accused of sacrificing the monarchy and the very life of her husband and children to her prejudice against La- fayette. About the year 1791, some two years after the arrival of De St. Pry at Wiscasset, a colony of French ~migr~s under Madame La Val ar- rived at Frenchmans Bay from Phil- adelphia, and settled at Trenton Point, now known as Lamoine, on the mainland northeast of Mount Desert, separated from it by a half mile or more of the bay. Madame La Val, an aristocrat evidently, was accompanied by her daughter and thirty artisans. She was a woman of unusual energy and executive ability, a widow of the Revolution, whose ruling ambition it was, in escaping from her husbands fate, to build a refuge for her dis- tressed countrymen, even a city that should be a memorial of French enter- prise and brotherhood. The Vicomte Louis Marie de Noailles arrived in Philadelphia in 1792 or 1793 (some of the annals say 179i),a refugee,his absorbing am- bition the founding in the New World of an asylum for the thousands of his countrymen fleeing from France. Noailles, as he was called when stripped by republicanism of his titles, was the brother-in-law of La- fayette. He had followed Lafayette to America in 1777, and had proffered his sword to Washington. His record in the War of Independence had been one of exceptional honor and distinc- tion. After the declaration of peace, Noailles had lingered in Philadelphia, much courted by the gay society of the capital.* Upon his return to France, he became a leader of affairs, *The Republican court, p. 378. MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 57 and as a deputy to the States General had introduced the triple motion of equal taxation, the abolition of all pe- cuniary rights, and of bondage, invit- mg at the same time the nobles and clergy to sanction the abolition of the feudal system. His moderatism, however, proved offensive to Jacobin- ism in time, and in emigration was his only safety from prison and the guil- lotine. In Philadelphia he was as one of the household of William fling- ham, who, with Robert Morris and Stephen Girard, became identified with his refugee colonization scheme. We do not know that Noailles had any- thing to do with Madame La Vals colony at Frenchmans Bay. We do know, however, that Lafayette, only five years before, had had his interest notably focalized upon the very tract on Frenchmans Bay where Madame La Val had decided to provide a ref- uge for her countrymen; and French- mans Bay was not very remote from Wiscasset. Louis XIV, with his characteristic magnificence, had given, in the year 688, to one M. de la Motte Cadillac one hundred thousand acres in New Fran. e, the grant including Mount Desert and neighboring islands. By the treaty of Utrecht (1713), the title passed to England, and finally it came under the jurisdiction of the colony of Massachusetts Bay. In 1786, when the United States was doing its ut- most adequately to recognize the ser- vices of its French allies, General La- fayette had presented to the United States government, in behalf of the heirs of M. de Cadillac, a petition ask- ing that a part of the original grant, some sixty thousand acres, be restored to them. The petition was granted, and is said to be the only French claim to lands in Maine ever recog- nized by the state of Massachusetts, a concession to General Lafayette. The sixty thousand acres* were soon * Madame Marie Thdresd de Gregoire, granddaughter of M. de cadillac, died in iSso and was buried at Hulls cove, Mount Desert. Upon her death her family re- turned to France. The tract of sixty thousand acres was called the De Gregoire tract. divided among land speculators. Some twenty-three thousand were bought by Henry Jackson of Boston, who sold his purchase to William Bingham, then associated with Rob- ert Morris in various projects. The tract bought by Madame La Val was a part of the restored possessions of the descendants of M. de Cadillac; the purchase suggestingconsidering subsequent events, in which Jackson, Bingham, Noailles, Robert and Gouverneur Morris and Lafayette were interestedthat the combina- tion might have had something to do \~Tith the sale. When Madame La Val arrived at the point, a great log house, already known as the French Mansion, was ready for her occupancy. This house in the wilderness had been built a few years before by a Madame Burchell, who had lived there as a recluse in considerable state, her retinue of French and Indian servants ~supplying her table with game of all kinds. Un- fortunately there was no one to pre- serve and hand down the interesting details of a life that would have been interesting reading for us of to-day. Madame La Val soon supplemented the old French mansion with a larger and finer residence, elegant as a Paris salon,there are those who say, its interior furnishings sur- passing anything seen in those parts before.* There are traditions of how Madame La Val used to go tramping over her wide domain in male attire, a rifle on her shoulder no doubt, personally superintending the build- ing of a pier she would have half a mile out into the channel. She named her great house Fountain La V~d, and did much to beautify its sur- roundings. She was fond of explor- ing the country around her settlement and of laying out future towns. The exiled bishop of Autun, Talley * views of Fountain La val and its vicinity are given in Lamoine and its Attractions, by Professor John c. winterbotham (J887). Published by the Lamoine and Mount Desert Land company, Globe Building, washing- ton Street, Boston. Professor winterbotham is the local historian of the locality. 58 MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. rand, visited Madame La Val in 795, Albert Gallatin, then a resident of the United States but a few years, having spent the first year or more in Maine. (Interesting traditions of this visit and regarding the true parentage of Tal- leyrand were handed down to their de- scendants by the colonists of Madame La Val.)* No mention is made in Talleyrands Memoirs of this visit to the French colony at Frenchmans Bay, but the local annals of the vicin- ity abound in interesting reminis- cences of it,-many of them by no means creditable to Talleyrand, who was also a guest at the old Clough house for several days, a room and a bedstead still bearing his name. Now in 1792, when Noailles was pushing his refugee colonization scheme in Philadelphia and Madame La Val was laying the foundations of her colony at Frenchmans Bay, an- other great house, called the Kings House, was being planned, if not building, at the Standing Stone on the Susquehanna, in the forest of Pennsyl- vania, a house intended to be the nu- cleus of Noailless asylum of French refugees, the centre of the settlement that was to have, if possible, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette in its midst, a royal court in the back- woods. From all that can be learned from annals relating to the colony and the Kings House on the Susquehanna, supplemented by fragmentary tradi- tions, recent research and the remi- niscences of contemporary pioneers of the locality, we may believe that, pre- ceding the first purchase by Noailles and his con fr~re, the Marquis Antoine Omer Talon (a refugee of distinction) of a large tract of land of Morris and Nicholson on the Susquehanna (the same to be a retreat for French emi *This tradition has mention in the Republican court, p. ~8s. 5ee also the statement of Hon. Edward H. Robbins given in the Bangor His/arical Magazine. Hon. John De Littre of Minneapolis, Mino., a descend- ant of one of the colonists, has given the writer many family papers. The New York Courier and Inquirer published (about s85o) an article based upon Robbinss statement. grants), the sale had been anticipated by building upon the contemplated tract the great log house known as the Kings House, and intended as a residence for their Majesties. In Pecks Wyoming, page 126, we find that Colonel Hollenback was em- ployed by Robert Morris to find a place of retreat for the royal house- hold, and that he purchased twelve hundred acres in Bradford county, where Frenchtown was subsequently built, giving the year i93. Assuming, as we may upon good grounds, that the Kings House was built as early as 1792, let us now see what was going on in France, before giving a fuller account of the pictur- esque asylum of Noailles and Talon on the Susquehanna. Since early in 1790 the queen has been plotting an escape from France for the royal family. She will not listen to schemes separating her from the king and her children. She is. writing continually in cipher to Coblentz; the king, with as much ac- tivity as his sluggish temperament permits, is soliciting aid from foreign powers. The Count de Fersen, dubbed the handsome Fersen by the Courtthe favor he had received from the queen the source of much gossiphas but one idea: He is searching the world, says a contem- porary, for a savior of the queen. He holds the threads of countless schemes, of which much is suppressed in Extraits des papiers du grand Madchal de Su~de, Comte Jean Axel de Fer.~en. He too had served in the army of Washington. The death of Mirabeau occurred April 2, 1791. Had Mirabeau lived, wrote Carlyle, the history of France had been different,Carlyle be- lieving evidently that Mirabeaus plot, one of those far-stretching plans that dawn fitfully on us by fragments in the confused darkness, was the one that might perhaps have been carried out could Mirabeaus hand have con- trolled its execution. The royal fam- ily were to be taken to Rouen and held MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 59 there under protection until after a death grapple between Mirabeau and J acobinism. If Jacobinism came off triumphantthen flight from the country. Where? Lafayette could have told, if any one, no doubt, and Bouilld as well; Gouverneur Morris presumably and other Americans, between whom and Noailles there must have been no dearth of correspondence going on in cipherthe letters destroyed as soon as readknew Mirabeaus plot in de- tail. Mirabeau complained of plans within plansthat he was but one of many confidential advisers of their Majesties. He had been dead several weeks when the flight to Varennes was undertaken, one of Fersens plots, doomed by its absurdity to failure from the first. Well might Carlyle ask: Why could not royalty have gone in some old berline? Why so much luggageso many bandboxes? Between the escapade of Varennes and the tenth of August, memorable for the assault upon the Tuileries and the flight to the National Assembly, the entries in the Diary of Gouverneur Morris frequently suggest that they were meant to conceal what the writer~ alone would understand. Sparks, in his Life of Gouverneur Morris, gives much of this Diarya record plainly designed by the writer for private tise alone, an aid to memory in recall- ing dates, names and first impressions. It closes abruptly, January, 1793: to continue this journal would compro- mise many people. An interesting item is that of June 5 1789: Go to M. Hudons* . . . stand for his statue of General Washington . . . a mani- kin. Only such entries will be given here as seem to serve as dews to miss- ing threads of our story: June 20, s789.Go to Club Meet Due La Rochefoucauld, Vicomte de Noajiles . . . and others. [The first named was already a leading plotter for the rescue of the royal family. As lord lieu- tenant of Normandy, he had offered not * M. Hudon had been to the United States in 1785 to model the head of washington for the statue in the Capitol at Richmond. only to receive his Majesty, thinking of flight thither, but to lend him an enormous amount of money.]* July 3.Morris is told that he is fre- quently quoted by aristocrats as belonging to their party. July 12.Mention 15 made of the little Abbd Bertrand, who, frightened itt a mob in the streets of Paris, is escorted home by Morris. Bertrand figures in what is known as the plot of Morris and others. July 20.Morris advises Lafayette, im- mediately after the fall of the Bastille, what course to take in behalf of order. Sept. i6.Dines at M. de Montmorins, minister of foreign affairs, a name identi- fied with the Morris plot, so called. At dinner the apprehended flight of the king is discussed. Morris declares it imprac- ticable. The entries following show his con- tinued constant association with Jef- ferson, his predecessor as United States minister to France, and with Lafayette, Duc de La Rochefoucauld and Madame de Sta~l. The famous plot of the latter was in 1792; but that she was already romancing an intrigue for the escape of the royal family can- not be doubted. October 8. Two days after the sack- ing of Versailles, Morris is at Lafay- ette s in conference with Lafayette, Madame Lafayette, Madame de Sta~l, Mr. Short (American chargt~ daffaircs), and others. He advises Talleyrami and Mirabeau and several leaders of the moderatists what it is best to do in forming a new ministry. He brings Lafayette and Talleyrand together, that they may the better know each other. Early in 1790 he is writing to the queen, advising what course the king should pursue. November 19, 1790, after an even- ing at the Com~die Fran~ais with the Duchess dOrl~ans, he suggests ,to the Count de Thiare the advantages that would result from putting the dauphin into the hands of governors, and send- ing him upon his travels. At this time the Duke de La Rochefoucauld-Liancourt was in com- mand of four regiments at Rouen. Presumably his plot for getting the *carlyles French Revolution, vol. II, p. is6. 6o MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. royal family on board of a yacht and making off with them to England was known to Morris. The aid of La- fayette, as usual, was counted upon. March 3, 1791. They tell me the queen is now intriguing with Mira- beau, the Count de Lamarck and the Count de Mdrcy (the Austrian am- bassador). They wish to visit me again. April 30, 1791. M. Monciel and M. l3remond (associate plotters of Morris) come in, and the former gives me an account of what he has done with the chief of the Jacobins. They think it will be best to act in concert with the Court, without ap-- pearing to do so, lest they should lose their popularity. Succeeding entries show frequent conferences with M. Montmorin, one of the confidential advisers of their Majesties, through whom they com- municate with Morris. Britain and Prussia are intriguingthey give money to Condd and Orldans. M. Moutmorin reports that he and the king wept together. Poor man! he considers himself as gone, and that whatever is now done must be for his son. Morris writes in French what one Bergasse is to correct for him. He (Bergasse) will write to the king . . . and tell him that having obtained my plan in order to correct the language he sends it to his Majesty, but under the strictest in- junction of secrecy. In August and September there are several entries relating to a Memoire whichMorris had written for the king ----as well as the draft of a speech for him to deliver upon taking the oath to serve the constitution. There is a series of conferences with M. de Montmorin, in which the king takcs l)art. Of the speech we read that it is in the kings possession, but that he found it difficult to swallow. Bremond tells Morris that the king preferred his Memoire to another sent him from England. The Count de Moustier had returned from an embassy to the king of Prussia, whither he had been sent after his re- turn from America. . . . The king of Prussia will furnish money to assist in putting the finances of this country to right. November 26, 1791. M. de Mont- morin tells me . . . that one of the provinces, with all the troops in it, might be depended upon. The real cause of M. de Montmorin quitting the ministry is given; he had not the full confidence of their Majesties, they were governed sometimes by counsels from Coblentz. . . . M. de Montmorin urged them to adopt a privy council to decide in all cases, and endeavored to convince them that unless they fixed upon a plan of con- duct they would be greatly injured. but in vain. In January, 1792, Gouverneur Mor- ris was appointed United States min- ister to France. He was in high favor with the king. When his plan of a correspondence with M. de Monciel was submitted to his Majesty, it was well received. Morris tells the min- ister of the marine that it is time to ar- range matters with the emperor. He is answered that unless assured that bthe king and queen make no impru- dent confidences, he dare not risk himself. The risk is indeed great. The appointment of Gouverneur Morris as United States minister to France had been made in the face of strenuous opposition, because of his aristocratical tendencies, and his apparent sympathy with the moderat- ists, if not with open royalists. He had been confirmed by a majority of only five votes. After accepting his appointment he spent several months in England, returning to Paris, May, 1792, xvhen liberty trees, carmagnole dances, the ca-ira, the bonnet rouge, were the dominant features of the hourthe kings ships rotting in harbor, brigands on the highway. Conferences with Bremond and Monciel are renewed. June 20. His Majesty has put on the bonnet rouge, but he persists in refusing to sanction its (lecrees. Lafayette gives Morris MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 0i a rendezvous at M. Montmorin s. The king has neither plans, money nor means. July i i. Bremond . . . tells me that their Majesties flashed in the pan yesterday morning, which occasioned the resignation of the ministry we prepare heads of a discourse for Monciel in the view, if their Majesties come round, to strike a still more im- portant stroke. July 12. Mon- ciel is to have an interview with the king and queen. The plot is matur- ing, which might have been success- ful, bitt the king drew back and his council struck work at once, as Carlyle puts it, and resigned,thd queens antipathy to Lafayette having had much to do in shaping the kings conduct. I think there is want of mettle, Morris writes, which will ever pVevent them from being truly royal . This plot, in which Morris and others were concerned, was to have been carried out July 14, 1792, the day of the F& e of the Federation, when Lafayette was to be in command of the military, and would see that the royal family, who were to be prom- rnent in the procession, were placed under a picked escort, and between regiments that could be depended upon when flight should be struck for Compii~gne. Swiss guards were to be stationed along the route of flight, and once at Compk~gne the royal family were to be protected by loyal troops until the kings authority should be recognized. The support of the allied powers was counted upon. If the worst came, flight from France was arranged, but of the further details little is knoxvn. We know that the strict surveillance of the French government at that time over ships sailing out of harbor did not interfere with the freedom of the Sally of Wiscasset ;* and surely there * Morris writes to the Minister of the Marine, August, 1793: Is there not some way, either hy an exception of the law or hy special permission, to let vessels of the United States depart for the ports of the said states or tise French colonies? This was of a case in which he had not a personal interestas he must have had in the Sally. He generally had his way in such matters. was no lack of asylums for royalty in the land where Noailles and Talon, with the aid of Robert Morris and others, xvere doing all in their power to provide a retreat for Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Between July i i antI August 10, that fearful day of the sacking of the Tuileries, after which the rescue of the royal family was impossible, thc Diary is vague and often enigmatical. It states, however, that near the end of July, 1792, Gouverneur Morris re- ceived a large sum of the kings money, in all about seven hundred and forty-eight thousand livres; that this money was brought to him by Mon- ciel at his Majestys command, for distribution among those who were concerned in executing the project for removing the king from Faris.* The money xvas sent with his Majestys thanks for counsels received, his Majesty regretting that those coun- sels had not been followed. The United States minister was asked, moreover, to become the custodian of the kings papersa request that Morris declined, on the ground that the papers would not be safe in his possession; but he would hold the money at the disposal of the king, with the understanding that, in any event, no right of property on his part would be attached to the money thus deposited. The events of the ioth of August made the kings money of no avail for his deliverance; but without it those who had risked their lives for his would have been in most grievous plight. The house of Gouverneur Morris became that day the refuge of the terrorized plotters, and of others under suspicion, the kings money alone ensuring escape. Mr. Morris, in 1796, paid over to the Duchess dAngoul~me, daughter of Louis XVI, the balance left in his hands. one hundred and forty-seven pounds sterling.t *5parks, Morris, voi. I, p. 382. t 5parks, Morris, vol. I, p. 384. 6a MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. Accounts of other plots, in which Monciel, Bertrand and many others, presumably Lafayette, Morris and Colonel Swan, were concerned are given by many of the annalists of the French Revolution. Those for the rescue of the queen, after the execu- tion of the king, January, 1793, sur- pass all preceding ventures in daring and stratagem. That there should have been so unique a colony of French ~rnigr~s as that of Frenchtown in the township of Asylum on the Susquehanna less than a century ago, and that it should have had such faint survival in local annals and traditions, is passing strange in- deed,a colony of aristocrats in the main, ci-dez ant ecclesiastics, members of the royal household, military offi- cers of rank, heads of religious houses, entertaining for weeks at a time such guests as the three exiled princes of the house of Orldans, the Duke de La Rochefoucauld-Lian- court, Talleyrand and, ilo doubt, many others as conspicuous in the history of France and the United States. The Duke de La Rochefoucauld- Liancourt, in his Travels through the United States and the Country of the Iroquois in the Ycars 1795-1797, gives the most authentic contempo- rary account that we have of the col- ony, unsatisfactory as it is in the main. A few of the local annalists of that day, and occasionally a traveller through the wilds of Pennsylvania, make mention of the settlement, the great boom of the Asylum Land Company; but the statements of such are too often contradictory and mis- leading. The Rev. David Craft. in his History of Bradford County, Pennsylvania, has given an admirable summary of his thorough research among the traditions and annals of Frenchtown (Asylum); what he has not collected may hardly be found; yet he can add comparatively little to what is given by the Duke de La Rochefoucauld-Liancourt. Oh, for a packet of letters written from French- town by sonie of those exiled gentle- women; or an old journal,no matter if it were as tiresome in detail as the Jesuit Relations! The searnh for something of the kind has so far yielded little. The direct descendants of Noailles can throw no light upon their great-grandfath ers colonization scheme; nor can those of De La Rochefoucauld-Liancourt add any- thing to what has been given in their ancestors travels. The Duke dOr- ldans, afterwards Louis Philippe, is known to have kept a diary the most of his life. That part of it recording his visit to Frenchtown has long been missing. Correspondence with his- torical societies and local historians of Pennsylvania has been most disap- pointing, prompt and courteous as has been the response to requests for in- formation about Asylum; nor have those novelists whose field is the Pennsylvania of a century ago known of anything adding to the meagre rec- ords of the colony. If the long se- questered papers of Robert Morris are ever given to the public, the full history of the colony of Noailles and Talon may then possibly be writ- ten. In 1792 the number of French 6rnigr~2s in the United States must have been many thousands.* The in- surrection of the blacks in San Do- mingo had sent to the United States many who had settled there, the father of John C. Fremont among them. The refugees who landed in Philadel- phia, as many did, would be sure to hear of the colony of Noailles, or of similar colonization schemes projected by innumerable wild-land speculators. among whom were Robert Morris and his partner, John Nicholson, the fail- ure of whose North American Land Company involved Morris in disaster and burdened his closing years with poverty. The first organization of the Asy- lum Company and its purchase of twelve hundred acres at the Standing Stone on the Susquehanna in 1793 Taine gives 150,000 as the number of French emi- grants in all. MARIE ANTOINETTE HQUSES. 03 soon proved a failure, but was fol- lowed by the organization of a new company, with Robert Morris at its head,the territoryof the companyin- creased to one million acres. Noailles and Talon were appointed by Robert Morris associate governors of Asylum on handsome salaries, Noailles re- maining in Philadelphia, and Talon living in state in the governors house at Frenchtown.* The details of the business features of the great project, its unique bank of one million acres, five thousand shares of two hundred acres each at $2.50 an acre, the inter- est of six per cent on these shares to increase with the cultivation of the land, are given by the Duke de La Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, and are of far less interest to-day than a packet of spicy letters written from the colony would be, or a journal kept by a visitor like Talleyrand. Late in the year 1793, Noailles ar- rived at the Standing Stone, when the clearing of the land and actual settle- ment began. He was followed by Talon in December. They had been preceded several months by the Count Buide Boulogne, to whom Robert Morris had given the following circu- lar letter, addressed to Matthias Hol- lenback, Esq., at Wilkesbarre, as well as to Mr. Dunn at Newton (Elmira), and Messrs. James Tower and Com- pany, Northumberland. Hollenback was the agent of Robert Morris. PHILADELPHIA, August 8, 1793. Sir: Should Mr. Boulogne find it neces- sary to purchase provisions or other articles in your neighborhood for the use of himself or his company, I beg that you will assist him therein; or should you sup- ply him yourself, and take his drafts on this place, you may rely that they will be paid; and I hold myself accountable. Any services it may be in your power to render this gentleman or his companions I shall be thankful for, and remain Sir, your obedt st., ROBERT MORRIS. A letter from Boulogne to Judge *The township was called Asylum. The central set- tlement on the river, Frenchtown. The annalists inter- changed the names. Hollenback, the 19th of October following, proves that the sale of land had not then been completed, and that ]3oulogne was already engaged in building. Nothing has yet been found, to the writers knowledge, in- dicating just how far the building of the Kings House had advanced. In buying, writes Boulogne, you must absolutely buy the crops which are on the ground, as everybody here is very poor and our expenses are great. In that same summer of 1793, the Queens House of the colony must have been begun~ some eight miles away, in the midst of the forest, of which a description will be given fur- ther on. The site of old Frenchtown, says its historian, David Craft, can be seen from the Lehigh Valley Rail- road as you look down the Susque- hanna at Rummerfield, where the river sweeps round the mountain to the right, a plain of nearly twelve hundred acres. A good part of the site has been washed away. The post office bears the name of Asylum, and is nearly opposite Rummerfield. A farmhouse or two are to be seer1 on the site, and fields of buckwheat, to- bacco and corn. The logs of the old Kings House now form part of one of the great barns belonging to descend- ants of Bartholomew Laporte, one of the refugees. Every vestige of the settlement is gone, save the old French roads built by the colonists, who, it is said, expended some three thousand dollars on roads.* There are those still living who saw the Kings House in their childhood and the faint remains of the founda- tions of the Queens House. The Kings House was demolished some fifty years ago. One old man, who helped in pulling down its ruins, de- scribes it as built of hewn logs, cov- ered with shingles, standing at the centre of the settlem-~nt, a two and a half story building about sixty feet * Crafts History of Bradford County, Pennsylvania, hetween pp. 268, 269, gives lithographic views of French- town. Days History of Pennsylvania has a woodcut of the place in 5832. 44 MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. long and thirty wide, a wide hail through the centre, eight stacks of chimneys, each stack heating four rooms, the dining room and kitchens in an annex connected with the main building by a covered passage. There was a big bake house, a high, nailed paled fence inclosing all, with great double gates. A stream of water ran through a spring house, which was within the enclosure. Down the river .tliere was a gristmill; an orchari of nine hundred apple trees dated from the first years of the settlement. This description tallies so closely with others given of the Governors House, that it is a question whether the Kings House and the Governors House were not one and the same. The voluminous Hollenback papers, like those of Gouverneur Morris, are nailed up in boxes and stored in the vault of a Trust Company. The Nicholson papers are scattered to the four winds. The deeds of sale of the Asylum Land Company and the orig- inal map of the town are said to be in the courthouse of Towanda, Brad- ford county, Pennsylvania. In less than two years some thirty houses had been built by refugees near the Kings Houselog houses with a French air, say annalists, such log houses as had never been seen in our backwoods before, each with a stone fireplace and what the surround- ing natives looked upon as a marvel- lous and unnecessary display of inte- rior decoration. A theatre was one of the first buildings erected. Will the program of a single performance ever come to light? The town covered some three hun- dred acres; there was a market square in the centre, a log chapel, the missal of which is said to be now in the pos- session of an ecclesiastic in Rome. The settlement was in its infancy when its first wedding enlivened the loijely hamlet, that of M. de Blacons, late deputy for Dauphine and Mile. de Maulde, late canoness of ]3onberg. They keep a haberdashers shop, w r o t e Rochefoucauld-Liancourt. Their partner is Mr. Cohn, formerly AbbS de Sevigny, Archdeacon of Tours and cdnseiller an grand conseil. Mlle. de Maulde had fled from France with the Abbe de Sevignyonly these barren facts for what alas! there was no Fanny Birney or Horace Walpole among the exiles to describe for our delectation. Isaac Weld, Jr., in his Travels through the States of North Amer- ica, gives a brief account of his visit to Frenchtown. The town contains about fifty log houses . . . the French settlers, however, seem to have no great inclination or ability to cultivate the earth, and a great part have let their lands at a small yearly rent to Americans, and amuse them- selves with driving deer, fishing and fowling. They hate the Americans and the Americans hate them. The crying lack of the colony was, plainly, a working class. However polished its present inhabitants, wrote the Duke de La Rochefoucauld-Lian- court, they cannot dispense with the husbandman, as the hushandman can with the gentleman. It was a vision- ary scheme, a pathetic picture at its brightest; the efforts of the exiles to amuse themselves more pitiful, per- haps, than their heroic attempts to combine habits of elegant leisure with much hewing of wood and drawing of water. Eminently unfitted, as the most of them were, to endure the pri- vations of life on the border, would their exile have been brightened with the king and the queen in the great log house,and what would a pro- longed stay have been like to their Majesties in the backwoods of Penn- sylvania? My grandmother, writes a de- scendant of Madame dAutremont, one of the colonists, used to dress for dinner every day, just as she had in France. Pieces of her brocade gowns are among the heirlooms of her grandchildren. One of her sons be- came the private secretary of Talley- rand when he, in his exile, visited his countrymeni in Frenchtown,young MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 65 d Autremont following him back to France. Purchasers here, wrote Gouver- neur Morris from Paris to Robert Morris, concerning the sale of wild lands, are for the most part ignorant of our geography. So far from think- ing the forest a disadvantage, they are captivated with the idea of having their chateaux surrounded by mag- nificent trees. They naturally expect superb highways over the pathless desert and see barges on every stream. It is said that the col- onists thought nothing of sending a wood cutter a mile away to cut down_a tree if it obstructed a view; and that a favorite recrea- tion was teetering on planks laid across the stumps of the clearings. But the stories of sneering Americans should be taken with many grains of salt. The settlement became one of the sights of the country, the well-to-do Quakers of Philadelphia driving out to dine at its Frenchy inns, trade a bit at the haberdashers shop kept by the Abb~ de Sevigny, once archdeacon of Tours, or to dance at the Governors House With high-born pioneers who had so narrowly es- caped the guillotine. What would we not give for Benjamins and Priscillas account of what they saw at Frenchtown,their pic- ture of the stir in the little hamlet when it was known that the three Orh~ans princes had passed through the Wind Gap on horseback, had spent a night at Wilkesbarre in the old red tavern on the river bank, and would soon be at the Governors Chartres-Eglit~, Duke de Montpensier and Count de Beaujolais. The pretty shops of Frenchtown, with their attractive merchandise, drew not a little trade from neighbor- ing towns like Wilkesbarre. The making of maple sugar, vinegar, mo- lasses, tar and potash were among the industries of the colony. A brew- ery was contemplated, when the news of the amnesty of Napoleon Bona- parte (i8oo) was received, under which royal refugees of France might return, and their confiscated estates would be restored upon conditions, easy enough for homesick exiles to fulfil, Talleyrands outcry, after a sojourn in the United States, voicing the sen- timents of many: I shall die if I re- main another year under the Stars and Stripes.* Descendants of Bartholomew La- porte and Charles Honet, who did not * Blennerhassetts Life of Madame De Stall, voi. IT, p. 262. MARIE ANTOINETTE. 66 MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. LOUIS XVI. go back to France, own the most of the site of the old colony to-day, a locality which did not soon lose its attractions for Frenchmen, many being drawn to settle there and in the vicinity long after the disastrous scheme of the Asylum Land Company had been abandoned. The career of the colony was so brief, the results so futile, the intelligence of its neighbors so unen- lightened concerning its affairs,the fact that it has nearly disappeared from memory and tradition needs no other explanation. The fact that at the time of the founding of Asylum the revolutionists of France had a strong constituency in the United States, and notably at Philadtlphia, explains the secrecy with which the inner affairs of the colony were con- ducted. There were those in the conntry who rejoiced at the execution of Louis XVI, and Marie Antoinette might not have been out of peril had she reached the Queens House in the woods. It must have been in the summer of 1793 that the Queens House, hidden in the forest some eight miles from the Kings House, was begun in a lonely spot upon the road between French- town and Dushore, now the site of New Era, Pennsylvania. Marie An- toinette was executed October 14, 1793. Allowing forty days for the sea voyage and the journey from Phila- delphia to Frenchtown, a pony ex- press making the trip once a week un- less hindered by storm, we may as- sume that the tidings of her execution were brought by Talon, or about the time of his arrival, and that work upon the great log house in the woods was stopped at once. Unfinished, it fell to decay. The foundations of the Queens House could be pointed out not many years ago; but now every trace has disappeared. The house was located on a road opened for it at the time by the colonists, and in the midst of heavy timber. A veritable hiding- place it would have been for the widowed Marie Antoinette, then lan- guishing in prison, her hair whitened by the shadow of the guillotine. Contemporaneously with the stop- ping of work on the Queens House in the Pennsylvania woods, and when the Terror was at its height, the Sally of V\Tiscasset came home with a strange cargo aiid a stranger storyall of which is recorded in the an- nals of that seaport town, with in- teresting details that may not be fully given here. The Sally had sailed from Paris immediately after the execution of Marie Antoinette, of which Captain Clough had been an eyewitness, he bringing home with him a piece of the robe she wore on the guillotine, a relic treasured by his descendants unto this day. The cargo of the Sally had been marvellously unlike any- thing ever brought to Wiscasset be- fore,French tapestries, marquetry, silver with foreign crests, rare vases, clocks, costly furniture and no end of apparelling fit for a queen. In short, the story was soon noised abroadfor sailors would gossip, if captain and supercargo did notand has survived in local annals and family traditions that only for the failure, at the last moment, of a plot for the deliverance of Marie Antoinette, she would have been aboard the Sally with all that had MARIE ANTOINET77~E HOUSES. been provided for furnishing a refuge for her in the United States; that she was to have been the guest of Mrs. Clough, at the big house on Squam Point, until she could be transferred to a safer retreat. Was that refuge to have been the Queens House in Pennsylvania? Allah alam! Nor will it ever be known which one of the many plots of those last days of Marie Antoinette in prison was the American plot, in the carrying out of which the Sally of Wiscasset was un- doubtedly to have had a prominent part. A careful study of those many plots, those of Gouverneur Morris and others, makes it reasonable to believe that what is called the affair of the pinks, betrayed and defeated at the last moment, might have been the one that would have placed the poor queen on board the Sally and have landed her at Squam Point. Would Madame La Val have been one of her court ladies in the Clough house on the Sheepscot? Truly, here it were easier to write romance than history. And what became of the Sallys GOUVERNEUR MORRIS. cargo? Here another historical great house comes into this disconnected storythe old Swan house of Dor- chester, Massachusetts, known for many years as the Marie Antoinette house, because, as rumor affirmed, it had been largely furnished originally with what had been the belongings of the poor queen. Colonel Swan had returned to the United States in 1795, accompanied by Madame Swan, a beautiful and ec- centric gentlewoman, who had been with her husband in Paris during the Terror. They brought with them a large collection of fine French fur- niture, decorations and paintings. The confiscation of the goods of aris- tocrats and ~migr~s made the pur- chase of even royal belongings by no means difficult at a time when Revolu- tionary committees were coining money on the Place de la Revolution and furnishers were scouring the prov- inces for bargains, the trumpery of pillaged chateaux. Colonel Swan had become very wealthy through his commercial en- terprises, and could afford to pay the government $90,000 for a large con- fiscated tory estate at Dorchester, and to build upon it, in 1796, the mansion of which description is given in Drakes Roxbury, also in Orcutts Good old Dorchester. The Swan house was demolished some twenty years ago. It is described as a circular house, very French, crowned with a dome, a broad veranda sur- rounding it, no fireplace, it is said, nor heating apparatus of any kind, only one other house in the country like it, that of General Knox at Thomaston, Maine,Gen- eral Knox, the Secretary of War of President Washing- tons first Cabinet, and whose house in Philadelphia was a favorite resort of the Duke de La Rochefoucauld and the French refugees, an intimate friend of Colonel 68 Stone. One room was called the Marie Antoinette room, the bed- stead of which is in possession of the descendants of Colonel Swan to-day, and known as the Marie Antoinette bedstead. There are those who say that much of the Sallys famous cargo was carried to the Swan house, which seems reasonable, as the Sally was en- gaged in trade under Colonel Swan and his Boston agent, Henry Jack- son. A son of Colonel Swans was besides supercargo on that voyage, and had claimed a sideboard as his share of what seems to have been an abandoned cargoa piece of rare antique furniture now in the posses- sion of Hon. James P. Baxter, Port- land, Maine, and known as the Marie Antoinette sideboard. This side- board, upon the marriage of young Swan and a daughter of General Knox was placed in the Knox man- sionsuggesting that General Knox could have told the true story of the Sally had he been inclined. Colonel Swan and the Swan house have prominent place in the annals and traditions of Dorchester, and Colonel Swans name is inseparably associated with that of Marie An- toinette. Lafayettes visit to Madame Swan at the Swan house in 1824 did much in reviving the old story of the plot, a story that has naturally been much amplified in tradition. The de scendants of Colonel Swan, however, make no pretence of believing that the old French furnishings and costumes of the estate of Madame Swan were ever the personal property of Marie Antoinette. That some of them may have been is not unlikely, as after the sacking of Versailles and the Tuileries, when the infuriated mob meant to de- stroy everything that had ever be- longed to the Austrian wolf, when corpses were burned on piles of fur- niture and thieves were busy besides, not a few royal relics were secured by those who knew their value in the market. One supposition is that the Sally was freighted with the goods of those who were hoping to escape to the United States by her, but the ship sailed away without them, carrying off their property. Be- tween the guillotine which took off their heads, says Drake, and Swan who took off their trunks, there was little left of the poor French- men. Not a few of the Marie Antoi- ~nette relics in this country may be traced to the Sally of Wiscasset, and the Swan house of Dorchester. An abandoned cargo falls to the shippers of course. Some sixty years ago, the old Clough house was ferried to the main- land and placed where it now stands in North Edgecomb, on the Sheep- scot. It is still known as the Marie Antoinette house, and is owned and occupied by descendants of Captain Clough. The traditions of the Marie Antoinette cargo handed down from Captain Clough are quite voluminous. and most interesting, but there is nothing about an Asylum in Pennsyl- vania. All traces of the great manor house, MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 5WAN HOUSE, DORcHEsTER, MASS. MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUSES. 69 Fountain La Val, have disappeared. There are old fruit trees said to have been planted by the exiles, and a ven- erable Lombardy poplar. Traditions of the colony and its founder are pre- served by the descendants of Louis Deparrd Des Isles and of Charles De Laittre, the secretary and the super- intendent of Madame La Val, whose families became united in marriage, Madame La Val deeding to the wife of Des Isles all of her property at Frenchmans Bay, when she gave her hand in marriage to one Van Bartte, governor of Demerara, about 1797, and left her refugees to get on without her as they could. The after history of the settlement abounds in romantic episodes. Descendants of refugees of the French Revolution may be found in all parts of the United States, the high order of their citizenship, as a rule, their brilliant leadership in state and municipal affairs and the eminent success of their business enterprises proving, to the people of the United States at least, that the French Rev& - lution did much for the advancement of civilization. Many were the proj- ects for the colonization of French refugees, projects often abandoned in the experimental stage as failures. The coming of Napoleon Bonaparte into power not only recalled many of the exiles, but was the cause of a new and considerable emigration from France, mainly of those who were unwilling to serve in the armies of the First Empire. There are those who say that the Duke of Artois, afterwards Charles X of France, was in hiding from Na- poleon some nine years (1805-1814) in a rude chateau in Madison county, New Yorkbecause of his implica- tion in the Cadondal plota notable addition to the list of houses of refuge prepared in the United States for royalty in exile. THE MARIE ANTOINETTE HOUsE, EDGEcOMB, MAINE. ON Bombahooks high bank it stands, The ancient smoking pine; It lifts aloft its hoary hands Above the wooded pleasure lands, And makes its mystic sign. Its gray-green branches sway, and then Their ghostly mnrmurs cease; A solemn silence fills the glen, While Assonimo smokes again The spectral pipe of peace. We watch the blue-tinged vaporous haze In curling mist arise; And lo! to greet our wondering gaze, The phantom camp-fires start and blaze Beneath the twilight skies. Across the wildly dashing stream That swirls and foams below, The firelight throws its ruddy gleam, And dusky forms, as in a dream, Flit softly to and fro. Hush! tis the Indian chieftains hand That lights the calumet; lie speaks: In this, our fathers land, Too long we roam, an outcast band, On whom the curse is set! 70 ~By ~27/??a /zQ//?t/jy(o/2 Ncs oi~ THE SMOKING FINE. 7 For us the hopeless strife is oer; No warrior waits our call. White brothers! bid us place once more Upon the Bombahooks fair shore Our wigwams few and small! And while the torrent, oer the rocks, Flows downward to the tide, And with its thundering echo mocks The death chant of the Wawenocs, In peace let us abide! Our doom is sealed, our glory past, Our hearth fires, faintly fanned, Die out; and, from the heavens o ercast, The whirlwind and the tempest-blast Shall smite us from the land! But from the chieftains heart a pine, Blood-set, shall rise and sway, Where Assonimos ghostly line Shall smoke, as a perpetual sign, The pipe of peace for aye! The tempest came; the prophet chief, With all his people, fell. No death-dirge droned for their relief; Only the pale-face gazed in grief Upon the wasted dell. The new moons, oer the forest nave, Waxed full and slowly swung; But when the springtide kissed the wave, From out the Wawenocs deep grave The mighty pine tree sprung. To-day, above the waters swift, Its lofty branches flare; And see! the smoke-wreaths curl and lift! From Assonimos pine they drift, And vanish into air. THE AMISTAD CAPTIVES. AN OLD CONFLICT BETWEEN SPAIN AND AMERICA. By Ellen Strong Bartlett. THE contest with Spain through which we have just passed brings to mind with fresh vividness an- other bitter conflict between ourselves and that old monarchy,a conflict much longer than our recent war, but fought in the court room instead of on the battlefield. It is one of the most famous lawsuits in our annals,that of Spain vs. LAmistad; and thus the story runs,as full of romance as a media~val legend: Tis sixty years since various men, women and children were pur- suing their ordinary occupations of planting, hunting, and buying and selling in Mendi, near Sierra Leone, on the west coast of Africa, quite ig- norant that their lives were soon to be involved in the diplomatic relations of two great nations, and that on the other side of the globe of which they knew so little their fate was to arouse the concentrated and prolonged ef- forts of the foremost legal talent of the United States. Suddenly the peace- ful tillage of the fields, the activity of batter, the fierce conflicts of tribal wars were all ended by the grip of the kidnapper and by dismal days in the barracoon. From that assembling place they were taken to a slave ship, the Tegora, that flew the flag of Por- tugal. On the passage they were cruelly treated, perhaps not more so than if they had been on other slave ships. Crowded into low quarters, little more than four feet high, chained together in couples by wrists and legs, day and night, cramped into positions so un- natural that sleep was difficult, hot and thirsty, but with sparing allowance of water, sometimes hungry, sometimes forced to eat even when seasick, on 72 pain of flogging, with open wounds from the galling manacles, and with vinegar and gunpowder rubbed into those wounds,these poor creatures endured all the horrors of a prison combined with those of crossing the ocean in an old-time sailing craft. It is not strange that many died and were thrown overboard. The voyage be- gan some time in April, 1839, and in July the weary Africans were landed, at night, in a village near the Ha- vana. They could not have expected bliss there; so perhaps they were not disappointed when after ten days the forty-three survivors were put on board another vessel, secretly and at night. This vessel was the schooner LAmistad, destined to be famous in our annals. On it were the pur- chasers of the black cargo, Jose Ruiz and Pedro Montez, who de- signed to take their new property to their plantations in Puerto Principe. But fear was fed by both remembrance and anticipation; the cook made rough jokes, and suggested that the blacks were to be eaten as soon as they reached their new destination; and the accumulated sense of unde- served injury broke forth in stern up- rising, under Cinque, their leader by force of character. Using the right of self-preservation which belongs to all men, they overpowered the Spaniards, the captain and the cook perishing in the fray, and the crew escaping in a boat; they assumed control of the ves- sel, and ordered Montez and Ruiz to steer them back to Africa. Verily the tables were turned. For days the Amistad with its strange company wandered about the Atlantic. The negroes, by signs di- THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. 73, rected towards the sun, made it clear that the course by day must be towards the east; but at night the wily Spaniards brought into play their su- perior knowledge and turned the helm in a contrary direction. Thus it was that a northwestern course was the re- suit of the conflicting steering and that the Amistad at last came within sight and legal cognizance of the northeastern shores of the United States. During August there were ominous reports of a long, low, black schooner, manned by blacks, that was drifting aimlessly near the coast. The United States steamship Eultoi and some revenue cutters were sent out for her, and perhaps a little appre- hension was aroused by these rumors; but it was lost in the excitement caused by the news that the mys- terious vessel had reached land, had been captured and, with its dusky crew, was in the custody of govern- ment officials. Here the story of the Amiistcid becomes a part of our na- tional history. After touching at various points along the coast, for water and pro- visions, the blacks had landed in small boats on Long Island, leaving their vessel off Culloden Point, near Mon- tank Point, a place which was destined to have another painful significance in the story of Spain in the Western Hemisphere. This was on Sunday, August 25, 1839. Pelatiah Fordham and Captain Harry Green, the latter of Sag Harbor, were out gunning at that time; and when they saw a boats load of blacks landing on North Neck and, with carts and horses borrowed from a farmer, busily employed in get- ting water, they approached the men; and by the aid of signs and the f~vi English words which Banna and Cinque had picked up, Green made a bargain to take the Amistad back to Sierra Leone. But at that juncture, the United States coast survey brig Washington appeared on the scene; Ruiz and Montez, seeing men of Eu- ropean race, wildly gesticulated for help, and when near enough to be heard demanded rescue and protec- tion; and Captain Green admitted afterwards that, on seeing the Wash- ington near, he had decoyed the ne- groes and persuaded them to linger until it was too late for them to escape from their new captors. Pitifully the poor wretches cried, Sierra Leone! Sierra Leone ! pointing frantically to the east. Cinque threw himself overboard, and dropped into the all-concealing waves a belt full of Spanish gold; but he was recovered, and Lieutenant Gedney of the Washington, having heard of the alarming vessel through rumor, proceeded to arrest the dangerous fugitives! The poor blacks found themselves once more turned away from Africa. They were taken across the Sound to New London as the nearest port. Thus the Federal courts of Connecticut saw the next scenes of the drama. When the Washington and the Amistad cast anchor in the deep From an old print in possession of vale University. THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN FERRER. 74 THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. waters of New London harbor, they entered a whirlpool of political agi- tation. Every one knows that at that time the land of the free was also the land of the slave; as John Qnincy Adams said in that year, in the silent lapse of time, slavery had been winding its cobweb thread aronnd and over free institntions. The desire of protecting the owner- ship of slaves was strong in the public cINQUE. From the painting by Nathaniel Jocelyn, in the possession of the New Haven colony Historical Society. mind and had cansed a phenomenal and unreasonable sensitiveness to any words or actions which might even indirectly disapprove the institution which was an anomaly in this asy- lum for the oppressed. Events were often seen through magnifying or dis- torting glasses; and now, when we reduce them to the plain vision of common sense and receding time, sometimes they are most unpleasant in their bald brutality. It is hard to find any period in our history when the moral and political atmosphere seems so unnatural to us as in that first half of the nineteenth 1 century, called by Harriet Martinean The Martyr Age of America, when prejudice often usurped the place of judgment, and the strangest prejudice Jof all was that against color. That feeling, perhaps naturally strongest in the South, had many painful manifes- tations in the North. Mobs and riots had been too frequent to bear enu- meration. At the North, in Canaan, New Hamp- shire, a company of influential citizens had dragged from its founda- tions the building of the academy, because its doors had been opened to colored students; in Canterbury, Connecticut, Miss Prudence Crandall, a Friend, had been com- mitted to jail for no other crime than that of teach- ing colored girls in her school; in New York, Lewis Tappans house had been sacked; in Cin- cinnati, the mob had wrought its will on the property and presses of the Philanthropist; in the City of Brotherly Love, Pennsylvania Hall had been burned by a mob; in Boston, another mob had broken up with yells and rude attacks a meet- ing of about thirty ladies who wished to discuss slavery; the Eng- lish orator, George Thompson, had been threatened with the tar ket- tle, and William Lloyd Garrison had been dragged by a rope through the streetsall to show that Boston cherished rational and correct no- tions on the subject of slavery; and the Rev. Elijah P. Lovejoy had been killed by a mob at Alton, Illinois, for printing antislavery articles. In the THE AJI/IJSTAD CAPTIT ES. 75 South thei~e was only one opinion that could be expressed with safety to life. Truly it was not a propitious mo- ment for a company of ignorant ref- ugees, members of a despised race, to appear in northern waters. The question of jurisdiction in- volved some delay and careful investi- gation. Ought the case to come before the courts of New York or those of Connecticut? Accurate sound- ings were taken, and it was found that the Arnistad was one-half mile from shore when she was seized; and as all waters below the line of low- water mark on the seacoast are called high seas, it was decided that Cinque and his men were taken on the high seas and that, New London being the first port of entry to which they were taken, Connecticut had rightful jurisdiction. The captives were taken before the Federal court for the District of Con- necticut at New London, for preliminary examinati o n and trial. Strangely, the judge was no other than that Andrew T. Judson, who had distinguished himself as the persecutor and prosecutor of Prudence Cran- dall. He com- mitted the men for trial before the Circuit Court, which was to sit at Hartford on September 7. Ruiz and Mon- tez hastened to publish a card in the New London papers, thanking the public for sympathy, and Gedney and Green for rescue from a ruthless gang o~ African buccaneers. Suit was brought against Cinque and the thirty-eight surviving men for piracy and murder. Thomas R. Gedney and others filed their libel vs. the Schooner LArnistad and cargo (including the prisoners), praying for salvage for meritorious services per- formed. Green claimed salvage be- cause he had helped to secpre the property almost escaped from Ruiz and Montez. M o n t e z filed a claim against four slaves a n d part of the cargo as his lawful prop- erty, and in the same way Ruiz, against the THE HOUSE AT MONTAUK POINT TO WHICH THE CAPTIVES WERE TAKEN. SILHOUETTES OF AFRICANS FROM THE AMISTAD. 76 TUE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. THE FARMINGTON CHURCH. remaining slaves and property. Dis- trict Attorney Holabird (of Win- sted), under Gedneys libel, put forth claims: first, that the Africans had been claimed by the gov- ernment of Spain according to the treaty of 1795, and ought to be re tamed till the pleasure of the Executive might be known as to the demand; second, that they should be held subject to the Presidents instructions, to be taken to Africa under the act of 1819. The Spanish consul filed a libel in behalf of the own- ers abroad; and later, An- tonio, the cabin boy, who, being a Cuban, was legally the slave of the dead cap- tain, was the subject of an- other claim. Was ever so complicated an accumula- tion of charges brought against a band of stran- gers? At the September court in Hartford, Jud e Thompson, not friendly to their cause, decided that they could not be tried in our courts for murder on the high seas, on a Spanish vessel. By Judge Judson the decision was also made that no claims for salvage could be met by selling men, women and children, whatever might be done THE FARMINGTON RIVER. THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. 77 about the goods involved. Three days having been devoted to the con- sideration of these matters, the ne- groes were bound over to the court to be held in New Haven in January. So to New Haven they were taken for a second time, and there they were lodged in the county jail. The three little girls had cried pitifully, and had clung to the rough jailer, Pendleton, when they were brought into court to testify as to the piracy and murder ; and they were held under bonds of one hundred dollars each as witnesses. Public excitement, increased by lurid articles in the newspapers, be- came intense. As soon as the extraor- dinary events were known a few friends of the black man met at ~ Nassau Street, New York, and ap- pointed Lewis Tappan, Joshua Leavitt and Sim- eon S. Jocelyn a committee to pro- cure funds for the relief and legal de- fence of these waifs of ocean so strangely cast on our shores; and they quickly se- cured able coun- sel, Messrs. Seth P. Staples and Theodore Sedg- wick of New York and Roger S. Baldwin of New Haven. What the Africans thought, as they were again and again taken about by sloop, by wagon, and by canal boat, from one dread tribunal to an- other, could only be guessed; for j~etween them and their guardians was an almost im- penetrable wall of silence, the silence between men who know not each others language. Banna, having somewhere picked up a few English words, had managed to ask Captain Green, in behalf of Cinque, while they were on Long Island, whether there were slaves here; and he had been answered by treachery. Antonio, the Cuban cabin boy, could speak some Spanish words; but it was impossible to make them understand the charges against them, or to get from them such explanations or refutations as they had to offer. Afterwards an ef- fort was made to show that Cinque and others understood English well, and that by an astonishing superiority of cunning they had deluded judges,law From the painting by c. Noel Flagg. GOVERNOR ROGER SHERMAN BALDWIN. 78 THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. yers, friends and foes alike, by an as- snmed ignorance of the langnage; bnt this is declared to be absolntely erro- neons by those who tanght them and took them throngh all the slow pro- cesses of acqniring onr speech. By the time of the last trial they had, of conrse, accjnired some slight profi- ciency; bnt it is difficnlt to see how their sojonrn with Spaniards, even if nnder conditions more agreeable than it really was, conld have been favor- able to the acqnisition of English. Many pitied their helpless state; bnt one man applied the powers of his trained niind to bring them relief. This was Professor Gibbs, professor of Hebrew in Yale College. Very soon after their arrival he visited them in jail and, by laying down pennies in varying nnmbers before them and by appropriate signs, sncceeded in get- ting the sonnds of their nnmerals. He repeated them nntil he was snre that he had learned them, with the dialectic variations which he had de tected; and then he has- tened to NewYork,where he spent several days among the wharves, searching the crews of vessels from foreign ports, in the hope of find- ing an African sailor. ~Thenever snch a one was discovered, Prof ess- or Gibbs recited to him his self-tanght lesson in nnmerals. One after an- other shook his head. At last, e-ta (i), fe-le (2), san-wa (s), na-ni (zi~), drew forth a smile of recognition from a negro on the Buzzard, a British brigantine, and thns was fonnd the link needed to connect captives and captors. It was another proof of the valne of the scholar in the economy of the worlds work. James Covey, for snch was the adopted name of the negro, was then abont twenty years old. He too had been stolen in childhood, had been sold, first to African owners, then to Portn gnese, and, being at last on a slave ship which was captnred by the British, was thns made free again by the magic of Englands flag. He had learned to read and write English in the English school at Sierra Leone. The captain of the Buzzard, Fitz- gerald, was kind enongh to let Professor Gibbs take the man to New Haven as an interpreter; for in his wanderings he had acqnired a fair knowledge of the Mendi langnage. Learning and hnmanity, hand in hand, can accomplish a great deal. Like a magician~ s wand, the tact and ingennity of Professor Gibbs bronght a friend from the vasty deep for these heathen stranded on onr shores. When they saw him bringing Covey into their prison, and when they heard once more the familiar accents of home, a shont of joy arose, which was From the painting by Frank B. carpenter. PROFE55OR JO5IAH WILLARD GIBBS. THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. 79 never forgotten by those who heard it. Then it was possible to secure a connected account of their strange adventures; and a brief description of each one was prepared, with the story of his life in Africa. Although a common misfortune had brought them together, their ex- periences in African life had been dif- ferent. They came from Mendi, Gissi, Bandi, ]3ullom, all neighboring dis- tricts of Western Africa, between Sierra Leone and Liberia. All had been stolen, at various times and places, by other Africans, who sup- plied Spanish and Portuguese deal- ers,sad comment on the evil reaction of the slave trade. Of the three little girls, one had been made prison- er by a party of men who broke into her mothers house at mid- night, and the other t w o, having been pawned for debts which were not paid, had been sold to pay those debts. The men were of ordinary height, differed greatly in features, and in color varied from black to yellow. Some had lived in villages near mountains and rivers, some in fenced villages. A picture in Landers Travels in Africa, representing a hamlet com- posed of round clay dwellings with conical roofs thatched with leaves or turf, without windows or chimney, all neatly arranged, and shaded by palm trees, was recognized by then~ as being like their own villages. They had figs, oranges, lemons, bananas and pineapples, cotton, rice and corn. Some had been rice planters; some had owned cows, sheep, goats, hens; some had been hunters, killing leopards and elephants; some had been laborers; some had been blacksmiths, making axes and hoes; and some were sons of chiefs, gentlemen, who didnt do any work, as the interpreter expressed it. A committee of New Haven men, the Rev. Leonard Bacon, Rev. H. G. Ludlow and Amos Townsend, Jr., had been commissioned to provide suit- able instruction for the blacks, who now had a little more liberty within the jail. They must have lived in constant trepidation for weeks, until they had gained a little assurance from the evidence of friendly protec- tion. From the third-story windows of the jail, which faced the Green on the site of the present City Hall, they beheld the pomp and circumstance of training day, and at once the poor wretches were overcome by terror, thinking that the day of their death had come. To the call for instructors there was a quick response from Mr. George K. Day, then assistant in- structor of Hebrew, now professor in the Yale Divinity School, and some of the divin- ity students, who gave their morning hours to this missionary work thus unexpectedly brought to them. Here was a bit of native heaithendom for them to work upon, and with zeal and patience they tried to Christianize it. Great was the interest felt by teachers and pupils alike in this most novel application of the natural method of acquiring languages. Of course, pictures and all kinds of in- genious expedients were used in the first steps; and as soon as some readi- ness of communication was estab- lished, the teachers tried to give some idea of the principles of our religion. Dr. Day says that in this they were somewhat successful, and that their pupils learned to read a part of the New Testament. What strange scenes that im REV. GEORGE E. DAY, D. D. 8o THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. promptu schoolroom in the New Haven jail presented !the untutored heathen brought to the very door of the scholar, the eye that had been keen to watch the track of the ele- phant or the leopard, now eagerly fol- lowing the intricacies of the printed page, and the pale-faced youth who had left their Hebrew and Greek les- sons in college halls striving to ex- plain Gods goodness to those who were still smarting from man s in- juries! They wore the clothes proviied for them by government, but during their stay in New Haven they did not learn all the refinements of table etiquette. Away would go the tin plates and cups after a meal, as heed- lessly cast aside as had been the palm leaves of their home. For necessary exer- cise they were s o m e t i m e s taken out on the Green, where their antics, and especially t h e agile feats of Cinque, afforded amusement to the ever-present spectators, and must have been a glad contrast to the cramped and shackled days on the slave ship. They varied in moral and mental traits; but Cinque was always their leader; his manly form and speaking face engrossed attention wherever he appeared. He it was whose impas- sioned words had roused his fellows to make one more vain effort for lib- erty, on Long Island; he it was who had been put in irons and separated from the others as dangerous after landing in New London; he it was who, when the interpreter was absent from morning worship, rose and took the duty of interpreting the prayer. While he was a prisoner he was al- lowed to go to the studio of Jocelyn, that his portrait might be painted by that noted portrait painter, the brother of that Simeon S. Jocelyn who had long been the firm friend of the black man. Of this picture, which was called a speaking likeness, many copies engraved by Sartain exist. The original was painted at the order of the late Robert Purvis, Esq., of Charleston, South Carolina, a member of the first American Anti- slavery Society ever organized. He was the chairman of the semi-centen n i a 1 celebration held in Philadelphia, December 4, 1883, to mark the anniversary of the establish- ment of the Antislavery So- ciety in that city, December 4, 1833. Mr. Purvis was in 1883 one of four survivors of sixty who signed the Dec- laration of Senti- ment ~ the Na- tional Conven- tion. At the request of Dr. Stephen G. Hubbard of New Haven, the painting was presented in 1899 to the Historical Society of New Haven by the daugh- ter of Mr. Purvis, Miss Harriet Purvis of Philadelphia, and it now hangs in the collection of that soci- ety. The painter, Deacon Nathaniel J ocelyn, xvas himself a man of note and a companion of that veteran in art, Asher 13. Durand. He had sent portraits to the first exhibition of our Academy of Design, in 1826, he had travelled in Europe with Morse, ~tnd had afterwards, in 1844, received the JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. ~y1 gold palette for the best portrait ex- hibited in Connecticut; and during his long life he painted portraits of many well known men and women. He and his brother, Simeon S. Joce- lyn,wlio had been almost the onlyman to vote against the majority in the famous meeting which forbade the es- tablishment of an educational institu- tion for colored youth in New Haven, worked long and faithfully with Lewis and Arthur Tappan to make true our national boast of liberty for all. As fear abated and knowledge in- creased, the Africans gave some inter- esting information about their life in Africa. The toga-like garment used there, from three to four feet wide and from six to nine feet long, differed lit- tle for men and women, except in the manner of wearing. It was thrown over the left shoulder, leaving the right arm and shoulder bare. Their chiefs had plenty, plenty cloth ; and this, with the name of one chief, Kak-beni, meaning lazy, gives us a notion of their conception of the lux- uries of royalty. They had the bar- barians fondness for ornament, and liked strings of beads and shells around their wrists and ankles. According to their account, matri- monial negotiations among them were simple and direct, without any foolish sentimentality. The man made a gift to the woman; if the gift was ac- cepted, he was accepted. One of the men, lJga-ho-ni, gave twenty clothes and a shawl for his wife. Another, Ba-u, paid ten clothes, one goat, one gun, and plenty of mats, and he was indebted to his mother for making the clothes. It would almost seem that the burden of the trousseau was on the wrong side of the house. In Mendi they had a kind of fetich religion, in that they reverenced cer- tain objects in nature, as a cotton tree, a mountain, because there was a spirit in them ; but these men could give only a scanty account of the cere- monies of their religion, for the rea- son that they were too young to take part in them, only the old being con- sidered worthy of that. Are we the only people who do not respect age? They abhorred cannibalism, were with few exceptions truthful, and were ready to punish any thieves among their number. While lawyers and diplomats were discussing the legal complications, and good men were trying to teach the gospel of peace, the newspapers and the showmen were reaping their harvest of sensations. The original theme of the story was played with all possible variations, and Ruiz and Montez, and Cinque and Grabeau, were posed alternately as victims and as martyrs. Wax figures of the blacks were made from life and car- ried around the country, and some large pictures were painted to repre- sent the mutiny. One was called The Death of Captain Ferrer, the cap- tain of the Amistad, July, 1839. The following explanation is appended to the woodcut copy of it: Don Josd Ruiz and Don Pedro Montez of the Island of Cuba, having purchased fifty-three slaves at Ha- vana, recently imported from Africa, put them on board the Arnistad, Cap- tain Ferrer, in order to transport them to Principe, another port on the Island of Cuba. After be?ng out from Havana about four days, the African captives on board, in order to retain their freedom and return to Africa, armed themselves with cane knives, and rose upon the captain and crew of the vessel. Captain Ferrer and the cook of the vessel were killed. Two of the crew escaped; Ruiz and Mon- tez were made prisoners. The scene is on the deck. The captain is represented as dying from his wounds; Antonio, as climbing a ladder in wild fright; Ruiz, as trying to flee. For one man the struggle is forever ended. Eight negroes in all, led by Cinque, are wildly brandishing the famous cane knives, while they are resplendent in yellow or green garments, which give no trace of months of lying in the hold. These cane knives were two feet long, stout 82 THE AMISTAD CAPTIVES. and broad, and were used for cutting sugar cane. In the library of the New Haven Historical Society may be seen a poster that advertised the huge painting, which was taken from town to town for public exhibition, thus at the same time proving and increasing the excitement which pervaded the community. The name of the adver- tiser is torn off; the remainder is as follows: would respectfully announce to the citizens of . . . and vicinity, that he has opened for exhibition at . . . the mag- nificent painting of the massacre on board the schooner Amistad! By A. Hewins, Esq., of Boston. The Scene represents the rise and struggle of the Africans, in which Capt. Ferrer and the cook lost their lives, and Don Pedro Montez, one of the owners of the slaves, was dangerously wounded. This thrilling event with 26 of the principal characters is correctly delineated on 135 feet of Canvas and strikes the beholder as real life. Its faithfulness to the original has been at- tested by those who participated in the awful tragedy. The hundreds of visitors both in New Haven and Hartford where the Africans have been seen, have bestowed the most unqualified praise upon the mer- its of the painting, and the following ex- tracts from the public journals of those cities will convey some idea of the estima- tion in which it is held. From the New Haven Herald. The Massacre.This picture which is now open for exhibition, comprises the scene on board the Amistad when the blacks rose upon the crew and killed the Captain and the Cook. It is of very large dimensions and comprises a view of the vessel and every person on board, many of which are portraits, particularly those of Cinque and Grabeau. From the New Haven Palladium. It is a very large and well-executed painting, and doubtless represents the bloody tragedy much as it was enacted. The like- ness of many of the blacks will be readily recognized. From the New Haven Register. The painting is large and well executed, and we doubt not conveys a good idea of the bloody scene on board the Amistad. Go and see it. From the N. B. Review, Hartford. The design is a very superior one and cannot but satisfy every one of its correct- ness, judging from our own ideas of the original scene, as we form them from the descriptions that have been published. Cinque is represented in the act of takIng the life of Montez. He is held back by the interference of others, and all the spirit of desperation and demoniacism is pictured in his expressive face. But however the picturesque and the romantic appealed to the diverse sympathies of the common people, the serious legal questions involved in the romance demanded an answer; for the lives of thirty-nine men hung on the decision of the courts. There was a constant assumption that all men who were black were slaves; and the counsel for Gedney said that the court was bound to presume them such until the contrary was proved to be true. It seems that in Cuba different kinds or grades of negroes were rec- ognized: first, the bozals, mean- ing those recently kidnapped; second, the ladinos, meaning those who had been bound slaves since 1820. The passo of the Arnistad described the captives as negros ladinos, an ex- pression worthy of Rosamond Vincy, with whom words were not a direct clew to facts ; and the translation which was furnished by some one in the State Department, either through ignorance or design, rendered the words sound negroes. The little girls were described as sound negro women. The points to be decided were whether these men and children were lawfully ladinos, and therefore, according to Spanish law, to be the purchased property of Ruiz and Mon- tez; whether, having been proved to be such slaves and therefore guilty of piracy and murder, they ought to be tried by our courts or by those of Spain in Cuba; and, on the other hand, whether they ought to be sold to satisfy the demands for salvage. On these decisions all the others de- pended; and each side mustered every possible legal resource for the con- flict. To fuvther assist in the decep- tion of the sound negroes, Spanish names were indiscriminately assigned to the negroes, the little girls being enumerated as Joanna, Frances, etc., and the men by such names as Joseph, etc. Calderon, the Spanish minister, THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. urged in behalf of Spain that the Arnistad cargo, slaves and all, be de- livered immediately to him without salvage. The reason which he offered for such a demand was a surprising one; he feared that if the negroes were not thus given to the Spanish authori- ties to be punished, it would endan- ger the internal tranquillity of the island of Cuba! But Ruiz and Montez, through Cal- deron and his successor, the Chevalier De Argaiz, who was backed in turn by the Spanish government, claimed that their rights rested on the treaty of 1795; yet they apparently lost sight of the fact that, at that time, the slave trade was against the laws of Spain, and that she had received 400,000 from England for suppressing it in her colonies. To be sure, that traffic had not been easily stopped; the newspapers of the time give incident- ally many proofs of that. For in- stance, you can see a bit of the news of the day which speaks of a slaver as having been in the business for twenty years, making fourteen successful voyages. She suffered one interrup- tion; for we are naively told that an irruption of a tribe of natives broke up that agency, and so they could not bring any negroes on one voyage. During all those years the Spanish government was secretly paid, under the name of voluntary contribu- tions, fifteen dollars for each slave imported; and the number of such imported slaves sometimes reached twenty or twenty-five thousand in a year. But inconsistencies appeared almost t. ivial beside the exaggerated preju- dices that arose to confront justice. To human vision the case of the strangers seemed almost hopeless. In the high places of the judicial and the executive departments of the gov- ernment every voice seemed un- friendly and every power to be in active opposition. The District Attorney of Connecticut, in announc- ing to Mr. Forsyth, our Secretary of State, that the trial for murder must fail in our courts, hastened to ask if the captives could not be sent to the Spanish authorities before the court sits. The Attorney General of the United States, Mr. Grundy, had shown marked opposition to any sug- gestions of bettering the condition of negroes in this or any other country, and was so strongly opposed to the abolition of the institution of slavery as openly to approve of lynching those who advocated that measure. So it was not strange that he could not see that by any legal principle he would be justified in going intp an investigation for the purpose of ascer- taining the facts set forth in the paper clearing the vessel from one Spanish port to another, as evidence whether the men were slaves or not. The President, Mr. Van Buren, so far for- got the limitations and the etiquette of his authority as to manifest his readiness to yield to the claims of De Argaiz, and to take the personal responsibility of sending a United States vessel to return the negroes to Cuba for such punishment as the Cubans saw fit to give, lie did go so far as to send Gedney and Meade to Cuba to testify against Cinque; and Mr. Grundy publicly avowed that the President might issue his order direct- ing his marshal to deliver the vessel and cargo to such persons as might be designated by the Spanish minis- ter! We have learned to be less afraid of Spanish wrath. Mr. For- syth directed that the captives should be hurried on board the Grampus (a schooner which was kept outside of New 1-laven harbor for several days), as soon as a decision favorable to Ruiz and Montez was made, lest time should be given for an appeal ! But in the midst of all this rancor and excitement the lawyers of the blacks began and continued their work with an unfaltering zeal and persistence that were heroic. Mr. Lewis Tappan gave laborious days to the cause, in spite of the demands of large business interests; and of Governor Baldwin it has been said 84 THE AMISTAD CAPTIVES. that but for the indefatigable ardor with which he brought all his legal ability to bear on the case it would have been lost. New Haven was the scene of the trial, which began on the twenty-third of January, 1840, and was before the District Court of the United States, the only court before which salvage or admiralty cases could be tried. The excitement became intense as the days len6thened into a week. Crowds patiently sat for hours in the court room in order to secure places. In the harbor lay the Grampus, ready, as all men knew, to hurry away the ac- cused if acquitted, to prevent appeal. Craft bred craft, and in the same waters lurked a quiet vessel that was prepared to forestall that plan by a rescue. The decision was a blow to the ad- ministration; for though given by Judge Judson, the condemner of Pru- dence Crandall, and not a friend of the black man, it was that the officers of the Washington were entitled to sal- vage on the vessel and cargo, but not on the negroes, as, even if they were slaves, they had no value in Connect- icut; that Green and the other long- shoremen had done nothing for which they could claim compensa- tion; that Antonio was a born slave and must be returned to Cuba; that the other prisoners were freeborn and only kidnapped into slavery, and therefore free by the law of Spain it- self, and that they should be delivered to the President of the United States, to be by him transported back to Africa, under a statute passed in 1819, applicable to slaves illegally imported into this country in violation of the ~ct of Congress of i8o8, prohibiting the slave trade. The full text of this decision occupied two pages of the New Haven Palladium for January i3, 1840. The editor speaks of the golden opinions from all quarters won by Mr. Baldwin, by the skill, talent -rnd eloquence which he has dis- played in the management of this case. Joy reigned with Cinque and his friends for a time; but the joy was short, for the government, through the Secretary of State, ordered the District Attorney to appeal to the Cir- cuit Court, and when that repeated the decision of the District Court, it appealed to the Supreme Court of the United States. The correspondence between per- sons officially interested in the Anus- tad case is full of striking passages of harshness, pathos and logic. The Secretary of State, Mr. Forsyth, in the course of a letter to the Chevalier De Argaiz, used these words: All the proceedings in the matter, on the part of both the executive and judicial branches of the government, have had their foundations in the assumption that these persons (Ruiz and Montez) alone were the parties aggrieved, and their claim to the surrender of the property xvas founded in fact and in justice. The order of President Van Buren, just referred to, was as fol- lows: The marshal of the United States for the district of Connecticut will deliver over to Lieutenant John S. Paine of the U. S. navy, and aid in conveying on board the schooner Grampus, under his command, all the negroes, late of the Sp. schooner Amistad, in his custody, under process now pending before the circuit court of the United States for the District of Connecticut. An article appeared in the official journal of the adminis- tration, with especial commendation from the editor, which expressed these views with still more clearness: The truth is, that property in man has existed in all ages of the world, and results from the natural state of man, which is war. When God created the first family and gave them the fields of the earth as an inher- itance, one of the number, in obe- dience to the impulse and passion that had been implanted in the human heart, rose and slew his brother. This universal nature of man is alone modi- fied by civilization and law. War, conquest and force have produced TUE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES slavery, and it is state necessity and the internal law of self-preservation that will ever perpetuate and defend it. On the other hand, Mr. Staples and Mr. Sedgwick sent to Mr. Van Buren a letter of expostulation, in which they said: We, with great respect, insist that the purchasers of Africans illegally introduced into the depend- encies of a country which has pro- hibited the slave trade, and who make the purchase with knowledge of this fact, can acquire no right. We put the matter on the Spanish law, and we affirm that Ruiz and Montez have no title, under that law, to these Africans. And the poor captives themselves applied the logic of nature to the case. They evidently discussed the work- ings of civilized laws, as seen by them, and decided to employ the talents of Ka-le, one of the most apt among them in the use of English, to write a letter to be sent to ex-President John Q uincy Adams, one of their counsel, before the great trial of their fate be- fore the Supreme Court. This letter was written without aid from English- speaking people: NEW HAVEN, Jan. 4, 1841. Dear Friend Mr. Adams ,J want to write a letter to you because you love Mendi people and you talk to the grand court. We want to tell you one thing. Jos6 Ruiz say we born in Havana, he tell lie. We stay in Havana 10 days and TO nights, we stay no more. We all born in Mendiwe no understand the Spanish language. Mendi people been in America 17 moons. We talk American language little, not very good; we write every day, we write plenty letters, we read most all the time, we read all Matthew and Mark and Luke, and John, and plenty of little books. We love books very much. We want you to ask the Court what we have done wrong. What for Americans keep us in prison. Some people say Mendi people crazy, Mendi people dolt, because we no talk America language. Merica people no talk Mendi language, Merica people dolt? They tell bad things about Mendi people, and we no understand. Some peo- ple say Mendi people very happy because they laugh and have plenty to eat. Mr. Pendleton [the jailer] come, and Mendi people all look sorry because they think about Mendi land and friends we no see now. Mr. Pendleton say Mendi people angry, that white men afraid of 1\Iendi people. The Mendi people no look sorry again, that why we laugh. But Mendi peo- ple feel sorry; 0 we cant tell how sorry. Some people say, Mendi people got no souls. Why we feel bad, we got no souls? We want to be free very much. Dear friend Mr. Adams, you have chil- dren, you have friends, you love them, you feel very sorry if Mendi people come and carry them all to Africa. We feel bad for our friends, and our friends all feel bad for us. Americans no take us in ship. We on shore and Americans tell us slave ship catch us. They say we make you free. If they make us free they tells true, if they no make us free they tell lie. If America peo- ple give us free we glad, if they no give us free we sorrywe sorry for Mendi people little, we sorry for America people great deal, because God punish liars. We want you to tell court that Mendi people no want to go back to Havana, we no want to be killed. Dear friend, we want you to know how we feel. Mendi people think, think, think. Nobody know what he think, teacher he know, we tell him some. Mendi people have got souls. We think we know God punish us if we tell lie. We never tell lie, we speak truth. What for Mendi peo- ple afraid? Because they got souls. Cook say he kill, he eat Mendi people, we afraid, we kill cook, then captain kill one man with knife, and cut Mendi people plenty. We never kill captain, he no kill us. If court ask who brought Mendi people to America? We bring ourselves. Ceci hold the rudder. All we want is make us free. Your friend Spanish demands grew louder. Englands young queen struck a pro- phetic note in a plea for justice to the captives, and all the prolonged excite- ment became intense. There was need for all the legal knowledge and acumen that could be brought to bear. Mr. Baldwin renewed his exertions. John Quincy Adams, the old man eloquent, who had enlisted in the cause, freely gave himself, with all the treasures of his learning, his ability and his experience, to the case. His diary, in which more than any other American statesman he has laid bare the workings of his soul, shows the perplexities and anxieties which weighed on his spirit while he xvas 86 THE AMISTAD CAPTIVES. ransacking libraries and preparing a guard for every weak point in the de- fence of his chosen clients. One de- lay followed another, and every day thus gained by the indefatigable old man, whose modesty was only equalled by his ability, was used in studying the great case, with deep anguish of heart, and a painful search of means to defeat and expose the abominable con- spiracy, executive and judicial, of the government against the lives of those wretched men. How shall the facts be brought out? How shall it be pos- sible to comment upon them with be- coming temper, with calmness and moderation, with firmness, with ad- dress, to avoid being silenced, and to escape the imminent danger of giving the adversary the advantage in the argument by overheated zeal? Let me not forget my duty. (Diary, Vol. X, pp. 48-51.) Friends and foes recognized that the accumulated learning and experience of lifetime were to be packed into this last great effort of thechampionof justice. Lieutenant Gedneys friends begged that his ill health might be a reason for a gentle touch from the caustic Adams; Key, the enthusiast who gave us our Star-Spangled Banner, almost lost hope, and every thinking man felt the thrill of the mo- mentous decision that was soon to be made. At last the all-important day, February 20, 1841, arrived, and the tri~l before the Supreme Court in Washington began. Mr. Adams, who knew not how to swerve for friend or foe, was scathing when he spoke of Mr. Van Buren as governed not by any sense of justice, but by sympathy for Spanish slave-masters, and when he said that the order to put the ne- groes on the little Gram pus was the servile submission of an American President to the insolent dictation of a foreign minister. But he was not more scathing than Van Holst, who, from the standpoint of another gener- ation and another nation, says that the administration strained its influence to the utmost in the service of the slaveocracy in a case in which only the boldest sophistry could discover the shadow of an obligation. For days the argument continued on both sides. One of the judges was called to the highest tribunal of all during the time, and with the ensuing delay it was not until March 9 that Judge Story made known his decision, and Mr. Adams could despatch to Mr. Baldwin in New Haven the burning words: The captives are free. Yours in great haste and great joy, J. Q. ADAMS. The great trial was over; the per- plexing case was laid aside forever, and the friends of freedom for the col- ored race had won a victory. But what could the poor Mendi people do with their hard-xvon prize? Could they put themselves back in Mendi? Could they even again man the Amistad, possessed once by them in the exercise of their rights, and long ago sold for salvage and for the reim- bursement of their owners? Could they restore their comrades who had perished? Naturally they were anx- ious to go home; and once more their friends helped them. By this last de- cision they were not to be handed over to the President for return to Africa, but were to be at once their own masters. Lewis Tappan imme- diately renewed his exertions in their behalf, and in various ways he suc- ceeded in procuring money sufficient to defray the expenses of their home- ward voyage and of their support while awaiting here a suitable oppor- tunity for that voyage; for it must be remembered that there has never been a regular ocean line between New York and Mendi. Mr. Tappan took a few of them about with him from place to place in Massachusetts and Connecticut, and found audiences so much interested in their performances in reading, spelling and arithmetic that in that way a considerable sum was raised, which was augmented by the subscriptions of friends. Owing to the demolition of the jail THE AMISTAD CAPTIVE5. 87 in New Haven, they were kept in Westville at the time of their release from custody, and thence all except those in Mr. Tappans party were taken to Farmin , ton, Connecticut, for care and instruction during the time intervening before their departure. Farmington was already well known for the intelligence, culture and broad philanthropy of its citizens; and it was quite fitting that the village which had been the scene of one of the first missionary meetings should be chosen for prolonging this missionary effort. A large new barn had just been built on the grounds of Mr. Austin F. Wil- liams, and this was rearranged for the headquarters of the Africans. With sleeping rooms and a schoolroom, where they were regularly taught by teachers from Farmington and else- where who offered their services, the men had a comfortable home. Con- tributions of food and clothes came from even distant villages; and even now people describe the wagon loads which they saw sent off to the Mendi men. The name which Mr. Williams afterwards bestowed on his place, Cinque Park, gave token of the strong impression made by the African leader on all who saw him. He ruled un- questioned over his fellows; and while his ardent, earnest temper did not readily yield to opposition, his native energy and ability commanded respect from all. The three little girls, Tay-mi, Mar-gm and Keeya, were domiciled with three kind families, and each en- deared herself to those who protected her. Of Tay-mi, the youngest, but the quickest scholar, many amusing sto- ries are still told. After correctly de- livering a message of love from one lady to another, she showed her pene- tration into conventional expressions by adding, But that no nothing! The far-away home in Africa, from which man-robbers had torn her, was still dear to her childish heart, and she spoke of sweet fruits and shady palms. On the night before their final departure from Farmington, an un usual display of northern lights oc- curred. Alarm filled Tay-mis mind, and in dismal accents she moaned: I think we never see Mendi any more! She liked the New Testament very much, particularly the passage, Let not your heart be troubled. She joined a temperance society, and after her return to Africa would not drink any palm sap until she was assured that it would be right for her. The men observed fixed hours for study and for returning to their tem- porary home; but otherwise they were free to stroll about the village,and they seemed to enjoy the privilege of frequent visits to the houses in which they gained sotne intimacy. Their eyes saw everything, and their minds were very active. They liked to ex- amine all the household articles, es- pecially those involving mechanical ingenuity. In the house where Tay- mi lived was a French mantel clock, with the dainty Greek columns of ala- baster, the gold face and the glass case, which were the fashion of the time; and that had a never-ending fas- cination for the men. They seemed to like life in the peaceful old colonial town, with its wooded heights and winding river. That river made its sad claim on the company of stran- gers; for when one of them, an expert in swimming, leaped in to search for the body of young Chamberlain, who had been drowned, he was entangled in the dam, and was himself lost. The months of learning the alphabet of civilization flew by; and then came the good byes. The unusual oppor- tuiiity of a vessel bound for Sierra Leone was found, and passage was se- cured for them. They were to go by canal boat to New Haven, thence to New York and so to Mendi. There was a farewell meeting in the old Farmington church, which is still vivid in the memory of those who were present. It was just after the stately old pulpit, with its sounding-board and carved vine wreaths, had been taken away, and in front of the new one a platform had been made, large 8S THE AMIS TAD CAPTIVES. enougici for all the Africans to sit upon. It was dignified by the presence of the religious leaders of the region, among them the benignant pastor, the Rev. Dr. Noah Porter, and the Rev. Dr. Joel Hawes of Hartford, who stood by one of the Africans while he read in English the one hundred and twenty- fourth psalm: If it had not been the Lord who was on our side. Never had the words of David seemed more prophetic than when uttered by the son of Africa. And when Cinque arose, there was a hush over the multitude, that from far and near crowded the spacious old church. Never did his commanding figure and speaking face arouse more enthusiasm, never did his sonorous voice ring forth with more telling vi- brations. He told the story of their surprise in Mendi, of the traitors am- bush, of the long horrors of the voyage, of the secret transfer in Havana, of the stern joy in making themselves free on the Amistad, of the disappointment at being duped on Long Island, of the second capture and the wild effort once more to es- cape. For an hour or more he held his listeners enchained, dismayed by his sufferings, enthusiastic with his hopes, breathless with his suspense. Eyes gleamed, hearts beat quicker and sympathy swept over the audi- ence in a flood,and not one word of English had he spoken. Often has the writer heard those who listened to Cinque on that night describe the in- effaceable impression produced by the exercise of this wonderful gift of native oratory. An interpreter was at hand to explain; but such was the power of Cinques impassioned tones, gestures and expressions that any ex- planation was almost unheeded. Mind spoke to mind by other words than those of language. The series of extraordinary events which culminated in this fortunate way was not without influence on the re- cently aroused interest in foreign mis- sions. Soon after the decision of the Supreme Court in the Arnistczd case, the first public effort to send the Gos- pel to Africa was made by the Rev. James W. C. Pennington, the colored pastor of the First Colored Congrega- tional Church in Hartford. He called a meeting in his own church, May 5, 1841, for the purpose of discussing the possibility of such an effort. Much in- terest was aroused, and a committee was appointed to call a general meet- ing of the friends Qf missions,which met in Hartford, August i8, 1841, tO consider a special mission to Africa. This is said to be the origin of asso- ciated missionary work in the dark continent. In this instance, the Mendi Mission was begun and carried on by the Amistad Committee, which was, in 1846, combined with later organ- izations, and became the American Missionary Association. The Rev. William Raymond and his wife and the Rev. James Steele offered to go to the new field; and it was in their charge that the Mendi company wfts to take the voyage to Sierra Leone. James Covey, the interpreter, took passage with them. Of the five teach- ers, two were colored people, Mr. and Mrs. Henry R. Wilson, members of the church of the Rev. Mr. Penning- ton in Hartford. Mr. Wilson was born in Barbadoes, a slave, and Mrs. Wilson was born and brought up in Brooklyn, Connecticut. Bishop Brownell and others gave testimony to her good character. They were to be supported by the Union Missionary Society, then recently established in Hartford. The Rev. James Steele was a brother of Dr. John Steele, missionary physician at Madura, East Indies. He took with him a printing press and a font of types. The Rev. William Raymond was of Amherst College, afterwards of Oberlin, and had been the teacher of the Mendians in Farmington. These men were all trained in various useful crafts, such as printing, carpentering, tailoring, etc. The last farewell of all was at the Broadway Tabernacle, on Sunday evening, November 21, 1841, when instructions were given to these TIlE AMJS TAD CAPTIVES. 89 pioneers in Afrcan missions, and Cinque for the last time thrilled an American audience. The bark that took them to Africa was the Gentleman, two hundred and eighty tons. It carried neither rum nor powder. They were all amply sup- plied with vegetables from the large garden of fifteen acres which they had cultivated at Farmington, and they were otherwise well provisioned. They were furnished with books, with clothing for themselves and their families, with agricultural implements, with a choice and extensive variety of seeds, and with letters to the British commander and authorities. The Gentleman was taken in tow by a steamboat hired for that purpose, and anchored off Staten Island until Saturday morning, November 27, when at dawn of day, with a stiff breeze, she put to sea. Soon the wide Atlantic rolled be- tween those dark-faced people and the America of their friends and of their foes; but neither waves nor years could efface the burning memories of that strange episode in their lives, memories of slave ships, of court rooms, of Christian friends, of listen- ing throngs. To their fellows who had seen them snatched away two years before, they must have seemed indeed like those returned from the grave. It was well for the missionary cause that there were impressions of untiring, enthusiastic kindness to off- set the remembrance of the injuries inflicted by so-called Christians in this western world. Cinque, at first, went back to his savage life; but after a time the influ- ence of his Christian teachers in Con- necticut asserted itself, and he passed the last years of his life as an interpre- ter for the mission station. There he died, about 1879, and the prayers over his grave were said by the Rev. Al- bert President Miller, a graduate of Fisk University, who was afterwards the pastor of the Temple Street Con- gregational Church in New Haven, and who is now in Washington, D. C. So does each generation reap from the sowing of the former one. Little Mar-gru also lived long years of usefulness as a missionary among her own people; and one of her Af- rican pupils, in the strange whirligig of time, at last was the mother of a student in the Yale Theological School, who manifested a fair degree of ability. At intervals the Spanish govern- ment demanded that the United States should reimburse Ruiz and Montez for their losses. But the decision of the Supreme Court was final. The work of Governor Baldwin had been done too well to be undone. To his unwearied and skilful efforts more than to any other cause was the result owing; he, more than any one else, could feel that through him strict jus- tice had been done. The long-drawn suspense of the successive trials, stretching over eighteen months, kept public excite- ment roused, and the bitterness of party feeling intensified the struggle, so that for years it stirred the nation. But that generation has passed; the bi~irning questions which were set ablaze by the drifting Spanish schooner were taken from Connecti- cut and Washington court rooms to glow before the world on the battle- field. The ashes only remain; only a few people can tell now even what the Amistad was. But that great legal contest was like the divide which separates the tributaries of the At- lantic from those of the Pacific. The unflinching decision of Connecticut judges, in spite of frowning official power, in spite, sometimes, of private preference, that the rights of human beings must be secured for every man who trod her soil, was that which, ratified by our Supreme Court, was an inspiration for a weak party of reform- ers through years of dispute and through the purification of our na- tional honor by the solemn sacrifice of the civil war. THE BOMB OF AN ANARCHIST. By Alice Ames Winter. HREE young men sat smoking in silence. Dick Maurice, as was natural to a sybarite, occupied the biggest and most comfortable chair; George Newton, regardless of inkstands, perched jauntily upon the table, and Harry Wilson sat gloomily in a stiff chair and puffed his pipe in short jerks. George, the reckless, took his pipe from his mouth and, waving it airily, exclaimed, Whats the matter with you, Harry? I never knew you so mum before. Is the study of medicine proving too much for your brain, or are you trying to assume an air of wisdom beyond your years? Cant I meditate a little on the de- generacy of the race and the cursed spite and all that kind of thing, with- out laying myself open to your jeers? asked Wilson. The awful idea just struck me that it was a sign of old age to be afflicted by the times being out of joint, and I was wondering whether I am growing old. Its an unpleasant subject. Cheer up, old chap. Its more likely to be indigestion than old age that is turning you pessimist, Mau- rice called from the depths of his chair. If the times are dislocated, I should think it would just suit your medical taste to set them again, said George flippantly, and then, dodging the sofa pillow that was aimed at him, he added: What is it that afflicts you now? Do you know my cousin Myra? asked Harry, looking from one to the other of his companions. Both shook their heads, and his look of gloom deepened. Nice girl, pretty girl, jolly girl, he said grimly. First she 90 went to college and made a specialty of Greek. For four years I trembled for her, but she came out as jolly as ever, and I thought my agony was over. But now shes done it again. Done what again? Gone to col- lege ? asked Maurice languidly. No,gone into a College Settle- ment. She came here to spend the winter with some friends, and I was looking forward to larks with her; but the last time I saw her she talked a great deal about Social Questions, and Useful Lives, and Wider Sympathies, all in capital letters. I asked her what all these things were to me if I couldnt find her at home, ready to sing to me, when I chose to drop in at Mrs. Whartons; and I got no answer to my question but silent scorn. Will one of you intelligent beings who take life seriously inform me what the girls do in the aforemen- tioned Settlements? asked Maurice, sitting up. Sh ! George answered. Its a mystery, like that of the vestal virgins. No mere man can look on their rites and live. Well, whats-his-namesome clas- sical gentlemandid peep into their secrets. I believe Ill follow his ex- ample; it would be a diversion ! ex- claimed Maurice. Shall you put on petticoats and sacrifice your mustache on the altar of NTesta? inquired George; but Mau- rice was already rising with dignity and leaving behind him the gibes and jeers of his companions. About seven oclock in the evening of the third day later, Dick Maurice paused at the corner of Greenbush Alley and Pleasant Street, to take a complacent survey of himself, before he advanced to the conflict. He was really a work of art, and he knew it. THE BOMB OF AN ANARCHIST. 9 Only to himself was known the secret of where he had got the peculiarly baggy trousers which stopped just short of his ankles, the short coat that hitched up behind and down in front, and the hat of the style of four seasons back. His hands too had that look which betokens long accustomed dirt but slightly veiled by recent washings. And yet it was with a trepidation born of fear of self-betrayal that he rang at the door of the only house in Green- bush Alley that had clean doorsteps and flowers in its windows. The door was opened by a pleasant faced girl with a big white apron; and Dick took his hat awkwardly from his head while he shuffled his feet uneasily and asked: If you please, Miss, I wanted to know is this the Settlement. It is. Wont you come in and tell us what we can do for you? The pleasant faced girl answered in an equally pleasant voice. Dick went in with heavy tread and lengthy steps. He found himself in a good-sized room, bare but very clean, whose sole decorations consisted of two lonely vases and three or four pictures, though it was glorified by the masses of plants that crowded the windows and shut out the sordid street. Through a doorway h~ saw a young woman playing games with a horde of children, who seemed, Dick thoug~ht, to exceed even the ordinary ability of children in swarming all over her. Dick felt it was on his cards to stare about him, but his hostess brought him back by repeating her question: Is there anything we can do for you? Yes, Miss, he answered at length. At least I thought Id come in and see if you give lessons in anything here. Evening classes, you mean? Dick nodded. Yes, we have classes in book-keeping and history, and a travel class to which men belong. Perhaps youd like to join one of them? Dick shuffled his feet again; but a sudden brilliant idea struck him. Well, you see, Lady, he said, it isnt them I want to study. I spose it sounds very queer to you for a man like me to be caring about such a thing; but the truth is, Miss, I want some one to teach me Greek. Myra, the girl called to some one who happened to be passing through the hall at this instant, can you come here for a moment ?and she turned away to hide a half smile in the cor- ners of her mouth. Dicks heart thumped with con- scious guilt as Harry Wilsons cousin came into the room; but he was too far committed to his part to draw back, and as he looked at her he felt that he was justified iii his iniquity by its reward, for Myra Langley was a singularly attractive girl. She stood for a moment in the doorway with in- quiring eyes, while Dick noted her slender grace, her great masses of Titian hair, and the exceptional blend- ing of innocence with that noble poise which comes from contact with noble thoughts. Im a pretty mean fellow, Dick exclaimed to himself; but aloud he said: I was asking this lady if there was any chance of me getting taught Greek here. Miss Langley sat down abruptly. I could teach you Greek, I think, she said. But why do you want to study it? Dick flushed uneasily. Why, you see, Maam, he explained, Ive been reading a good deal by myself in public library books, and I got so in- terested in those old fellows I made up my mind Id like to study their language. All the books say youve got to read it in their own language to ?ppreciate it; and I heard there were some awful smart ladies down here so I thought it wouldnt do any harm to ask. Im willing to pay for lessons, Maam, though Im not saying T can pay much. Myra was looking at him fixedly, and Dick wondered whether she sus- pected him. It would take you a 92 THE BOMB OF AN ANARCHIST. long time to learn to read Greek easily, she said, and you would have to study very hard. I dont mind the study, Miss, if youll try me. I have all my evenings after working hours. What is your work ? asked Miss Langley. Bricklayer, Dick, the lazy, an- swered unblushingly. Well, if Miss Hart, the head of the Settlement, thinks it wise, I am will- ing to try the experiment, Myra said doubtfully. Will you wait here a moment? and she swept from the room and upstairs, where Dick heard voices in conversation. After a time she came down, with two books in her hand. Would you like to begin now, she asked, or would you rather come again? Now, if it suits you, Maam, and he rose and followed her across the hall to another bare little room, where she drew up two chairs beside a table. As she opened the book to the alphabet, Dick held on to his chair in amusement at the situation. Per- haps his emotions would have been heightened had he known that his teacher was inly congratulating herself that her pupil was not one of the offen- sively unwashed. But he wrinkled his brow and set himself to follow her slender forefinger through the quirks and cranks from alpha to omega. It was a wonderfully successful lesson. In almost no time Dick was pro- nouncing quite complicated words, though he disregarded the accents with a perseverance that was a terri- ble strain on his own classical in- stinct. Myra Langley was fairly beaming as she closed the book. Do you know, Mr. Hopkins, she said, I think you are almost a proof of what some of the industrial teach- ers claim! They say that the educa- tion of the hand really helps the brain, and certainly I uever saw any one learn so rapidly as you, xvho have been a day laborer all your life. The hand aint much educated in brick1a~ing, Maam, said Dick as he prepared to depart, commissioned to return on Tuesday evening with the first and second declensions at the tip of his tongue. He had a mingled sense of guilt and triumph as he slunk into his rooms and, hanging the garments of Hop- kins in the closet, got himself into his dress suit preparatory to ending the evening at Mrs. Van de Havens ball. Myra Langley, meanwhile, was dis- coursing to an admiring circle of girls gathered in Miss Harts room, on the really extraordinary brain power which existed among these humbler classes, and which needed only half a chance to develop itself. Nor did time give her the lie; for as the Tuesday and the Friday nights slipped by, Hopkins (who always yielded to the temptation of going just once more) dashed on in his Greek career at a perfectly breakneck pace. Myra felt called on to warn him against overwork, and worried herself greatly over his statement that he never went to bed before one oclock. A man who has to work hard all day, as you do, Mr. Hopkins, she re- monstrated, has no business to risk his health by late hours. You will really know more in the long run if you dont ovej~strain yourself now. Look at me, Miss Langley, he answered. Im as strong as a horse. Do I look as though I was overwork- ing or breaking down? And in sooth he didnt, being a fine specimen of the young American, who had been a crack football player during his col- lege career. So they raced through conjuga- tions and syntax, and waded into Xenophon almost before Myra knew it. What I want to do, you know, Miss Langley, is to read Plato; I cant stop long here, he would say. Mr. Hopkins was not long in be- coming a prominent feature in Settle- ment life. It seemed to have a great fascination for him, and whenever he had a day off he was an invaluable assistant in all kinds of enterprises. It THE BOMB OF AN ANARCHIST. 93 was he who helped Miss Langley and Miss Hart on their famous picnic, when they took forty ragamuffins up the river into the unknown genuine country. Without him, how could the girls have gathered the lambs, who had scattered in forty different direc- tions? It was he who found Sally McDaniel, after she had filled her arms with gentians, stamping on all the flowers which were too numerous for her to carry, on the plea, she ex- plained, that if she couldnt carry em home, no one else should. It was he who then sat down by Sally and tried to infuse her with the idea that beauty was its own excuse for being, exhib- iting such a knowledge of botany that Myra was awed and astonished. He also carried a body of boys to the lake and taught them to swim. He went around and beguiled Bridget and Paddy and Hans and Gretel to the Art Loan Exhibit, and kept them there absorbed by his talks about the pictures. 1-Je even had a class of his own in swinging dumb-bells. All these and many more things he did, so that whenever the Settlement was in straits, whether it needed a door- knob mended or the garbage depart- ment blown up about the condition of the alley, Mr. Hopkins was the person called upon. His manners had im- proved with amazing rapidity, and after the first visit his hands were im- maculate. All the girls grew to like and respect the tall and athletic fellow, who had an unusually clever mind and who hid the heart of a gentleman under his unprepossessing coat. Often Myra thought that, if she hadnt known, she would hardly have guessed that he xvasntwasnt well, just like herself, you know. And yet there was something about him that made her uneasy; for when they went on their expeditions, he had a conscious, sneaking way of looking about him, as if he feared to be recog- nized; and he could never be beguiled into comino to the Settlement at a time xvhen he was likely to meet any visitors from up town. Myra spec- ulated about it; and she found that all the others noticed and commented upon this vague underhand some- thing in his manner. Had he com- mitted a crime, and was he trying to expiate it by doing all he could to help the people around him? The thought made her particularly tender and sympathetic toward him; but it was not until the niiddle of the winter that, one evening after they had fin- ished a Plato reading, the awful truth came upon her. He had brought her a bunch of violets,to sweeten the dead languages, he said,and she felt called upon to remonstrate against an intangible new relationship that was growing up between them. You know, she said gently, I fully appreciate your kindness in bringing me these lovely flowers; but really I dont think you ought to do that kind of thing. I got them from a cousin of mine who has a greenhouse, he said glumly ;and this was literally true, for he had rifled Mrs. Van de Havens choicest specimens on his way to the slums. But if I hadnt, why shouldnt I get you flowers? Am I different from any other man? You may look dismayed, but with all your gentleness, you have the class feeling as strong as any French marquise. You wouldnt have offered to give Greek lessons to a young man of your own class; but you think you are made of different flesh and blood from me because Im a bricklayer. Down in your heart of hearts you think all of us down here are interesting speci- mens to be experimented on. But you know perfectly well why I spend so much of my time working here. Some day I am going to sweep away all these artificial barriersblow them all up with a bomb, and show you that you and I stand on the same level. Myras eyes were big with horror. I have no such outrageous feeling! she cried. None of us have,just because we have a little more money. But, oh, what do you mean by it all? Are you anananarchist? 94 THE BOMB OF AN ANARCHIST. Yes, I ani, said Dick grimly, and Ill keep my word and explode a lot of false ideas and complacent preju- dices that think they are resting on a sure foundation. They will find theres dynamite underneath !and he rose and went gloomily away; for really be was beginning to think that his position at the Settlement was no joke. As for lVIyra, she went sadly up to Miss Harts room, where three or four girls were gathered for their good-night chat. They teased her a little about the evident devotion of Hopkins; but she was too full of her recent discov- ery to reply with any spirit. Girls, she said solemnly, Ive found out what is the matter with him. I know now why he was so afraid of being seen, and why, he never wanted to meet people. He has confessed to me himself. Heaven only knows in what awful plots he has been impli- cated. He is an anarchist! Myra went sorrowfully to her bed, and cried a little before she went to sleep. The next day was her birth- day. The rain fell in torrents. Everything seemed to drag, and she felt a strange desolation as she went about her daily tasks. When after- noon came, and Miss Hart spoke of two forlorn sick women who needed a helping hand, she was glad to relieve her inner dreariness by offering to face the outer storm on an errand of mercy. When she came back it was long after dark, and she was drenched. Were waiting dinner for you, Myra, Miss Hart called to her as she ran upstairs. Dont wait; Ill be down as soon as I can get on some dry clothes, she called. But when she opened the door of the dining room, she stood aghast. The silence was broken by a din of toy pistols, torpedoes and tooting horns that fairly took her breath away, while her eyes were dazed by unexpected sights. The room was hung in red. A red tablecloth covered the table, in whose centre stood a lamp covered with a great red shade and banked with scarlet carnations. Lobsters, tomatoes, beets, radishes, strawberries and red candies formed the incongru- ous feast, and from the centre of the table, in zigzag, lightning-like lines, streaks of yellow tissue paper went to the corners of the table. Myras eyes fell upon the cards with grinning skull and crossbones which marked each seat. As soon as the noise of the toy pistols stopped, her ears were greeted by the chorus which burst from the assembled girls, and of which she caught only the words: Keep a workin and a shirkin, Keep a shirkin and a workin, Till yer git eight hours a day! The girls were all laughing now, and Miss Hart made a low courtesy, exclaiming: Weve gotten up a little anarchist dinner, dear; we thought it appropriate for your birthday! Myras blushes vied with the sur- rounding crimson as she was escorted in pomp to the head of the table, and she hid her face by reading her card with its jingle, beginning: My bombshell falls on palace walls And blows up castles old in story. Shame upon you all, Myra cried. You may well call it an anarchist din- ner when you do such murder as this. She tried to throw herself into the frolic that followed, and bear her part in the toasts and speechmaking; but when the dinner was over, she crept to her room, for it seemed to have brought her difficulties to a crisis and to force her to face the problems that she had been thrusting into the back- ground of her mind. In Hopkinss words to her she realized that there was a more personal significance than mere defiance of the existing state of society, and she had an uneasy con- sciousness that, on her own part, she recognized a closer bond than that of common humanity. She did not doubt his feeling for her. But did she dare to cut herself off from the kind of life to which she was accustomed THE BOMB OF AN ANARCHIST. 95 to trust to her gentle influence to wipe out from his mind all the bitter anar- chistic spirit which had grown up there? And even if that were gone, could shenurtured in refinement of thought and surroundingsbecome the wife of a day laborer? Myra was an orphan, with a little fortune of her own, and there was no question of outraging the feelings of very near relatives. It was a purely personal problem; but she wondered how many unknown habits and prejudices of his might meet her like a dead wall, as this revelation of his distorted social views had done. If, on the other hand, she wrenched herself away from him,a pang darted through her at the thought,would she not know that she was making him harder and more bitter than ever? Would not her shrinking from him seem like a verifi- cation of the aristocratic feelingthat she had denied? Before the uneasy night was over, one thing had become ap- parent to her; she must have time to think it over,and the immediate future was clear. A few minutes con- versation with Miss Hart made every- thing easy. A cab was called, and by the middle of the morning Myra was rolling out of Greenbush Alley, with its disorder, its overcrowded life, its genuine and happy work, into that other world of serene elegance which lay so near at hand. Mrs. Wharton welcomed her with open arms. Im only overtired, Myra explained, and I thought, dear Mrs. Wharton, you would perhaps let me come and spend a little vacation with you before going back to my work again. My dear child, exclaimed the warm-hearted matron, I only wish you would give up your slums alto- gether and stay with me. You look like a shadow. Your eyes are all ringed with black. Im afraid those horrible people are killing you.~~ Indeed the shadows are only af- fairs of one sleepless night, Myra ex- postulated. To-morrow youll find me as blooming as ever. You shall have a bowl of bouillon and be put to bed this instant, Mrs. Wharton said firmly; for I cant wait till to-morrow for your roses. I give a dinner this very evening, and I shall want you for my bright particular star. But, Mrs. Wharton, the girl re- monstrated, I cant possibly come in on your dinner in this way. It would upset everything to have an extra guest thrust in upon your perfect ar- rangements. Nonsense, cried Mrs. Wharton. Do you think I am to be foiled by so simple a problem? Ill just send a note around to the club, and you shall have the most delightful man in the city for your table companiona reg- ular Prince Charming, my dear, rich, clever and fascinatingly lazy. The vision of a poor laborer, strug- gling against hard circumstances, rose in Myras mind, in contrast with Mrs. Whartons picture; but she was soon tucked up on a comfortable sofa and lost in a slumber that forgot both the man of leisure and the man of toil, while Mrs. Wharton sat at her desk and despatched the following note: My dear Dick: I am unexpectedly short one man for a little dinner this evening, and I count myself fortunate in having so good a friend as yourself, whom I beg to come to my rescue. You shall not be wholly unrewarded, for you shall take in the loveliest girl in the city. Now that will bring you, will it not, even if my friendship fails? Cordially yours, MARY C. WHARTON. A half days sleep made Myra a little late at her toilet; but when she was dressed at last she looked at her- self in the mirror with a half aston- ished delight. She had been out of this world so long that she had almost forgotten how she looked in shimmer- ing gauze, and she raised her bare arm and kissed it in a kind of ecstasy over its softness and roundness. Dinner was on the point of being 96 A RUMOR GOES. announced as she entered the drawing room. As Mrs. Wharton presented Mr. Maurice to her, she gave one swift glance at the immaculate young man in all the glory of his evening array, and the room seemed to swim around her. With a sense that sup- port was very necessary to her, she took the arm that he offered. Not till they were seated at the table did she dare to steal another look at him, to make sure that she had seen him aright. He was gazing fixedly in front of him, with a little nervous twitching about the corners of his mustache, and his face betrayed a kind of amused anxiety. Mrs. Wharton looked down the table at them with supreme dissatis- faction. She had had her own pleas- ant little dreams in bringing them to- gether. Myra, she said to herself, with her beauty, her energy and no- bility of purpose, is just the girl to fascinate Dick Maurice, and make a fine man of him. And here they were sitting in silence, Myra evidently ill at ease and distrait, and Dick making, for once in his life, no effort to in- gratiate himself with a beautiful woman! So the oysters passed in silence, and not until Myra was struggling with the soup that seemed to choke her did Dick rouse his courage to the point of murmuring: Im afraid my bomb has exploded too soon, Miss Langley. Myra raised her head haughtily: I dare say it all looks to you like a very clever trick, she said. It may have begun in the spirit of mischief, Dick said humbly; but you must know that it ended very much in earnest. I should have given it up long ago if it had been only a prank. You know the old quotation about those who came to scoff and re- mained to pray. Myra was trying to crush back the hot tears that were pressing from be- hind her eyes, and she did not dare to reply. Am I never to be forgiven? Dick spoke very low. You are ready to give your life to helping those poor wretches in Greenbush Alley. Am I so much more hopeless a case? A sudden sense of relief swept over Myra. After all, her problem was no problem at all. But at least I can give him an uncomfortable hour or two before I yield, she said to her- self. And in spite of her philanthropic principles, she did. A RUMOR GOES. By Jay Lincoln. EN GLAND, a rumor goes that lust of ore, The pride of power, the trumpets fanfaronade Deform your March of Progress to a raid, And with Injustice marching on before You usher Justice in. Our hearts are sore; For we have loved your shining cavalcade, Your girdle round the earth, that scatters shade Like the suns self. Restore our faith, restore! But be it truth the whispering peoples tell Then lose your battles. Though your arteries spill Earths richest blood, Oh, what shall parallel Our poverty if good confounds with ill And right with wrong,if your own stroke should kill That great world-conscience you have fostered well? By Pauline Carringtom Bouv~. JOURNEYING from the seaboard towards the Connecticut River, upon or near the line between Massachusetts and New Hampshire, three isolated mountain peaks form conspicuous landmarks to the traveller Watatic, Monadnock and Wachu- sett. About halfway between the two latter lies the little village of New Ipswich, whose records make an in- teresting page of New England his- tory. In the year 1621 King James oTanted to one John Mason a tract of land that lay between the IPiscataqun and Naumkeag (i. e., between Ports- mouth and Salem), and extended about sixty miles into the interior. Two years later Mason and those as- sociated with him took possession of this grant; and this was the germ of the Province of New Hampshire. Mason died soon after, and his death was followed by the revolution in England. The claim, during this period, was neglected, and it was not until after the Restoration that it was revived. In i7~ it was decided that John Tufton Mason, a native of Bos- ton and a great-grandson of Mason, the original grantee, held rightful title to the Province of New Ramp- shire. As the settlement of the province progressed, the frequent attacks of the Indians obliged the settlers to seek aid and protection from their neighbors of the older and stronger Province of Massachusetts. As the southern por- tion of the Mason territory was claimed by both provinces, Massa- chusetts, as a matter of policy and a means of fortifying her claims, promptly gave assistance to New Hampshire, securing thereby the ad- herence of those whom she protected. Some years later the older province began to apportion out vacant or province lands. To the descendants of the soldiers of King Philips war the Ceneral Assembly of Massachu- setts gave the Narragansett Town- ships; to the descendants of those who followed Sir William Phipps into 97 NEW JPSWJCH IN NEW HAMPSHIRE. 98 NEW IFS WICH. Canada were appor- tioned the Canada Townships. These grants were made at the session of the General Court of Massachusetts in the year 1735-6, SO that the town of New Ips- wich refers the initial measure of its settle- ment to this date. That the town of New Ipswich in New Hampshire was named after the town of Ipswich in Massa- chusetts, to sixty citizens of which lat- ter town the grant was made, the fol- REV. JESSE lowing petition, discovered among the Ipswich records, clearly proves: To his Excellency Francis Bernard, Esqr., and to the Honorable his Majestys Council and to the Honorable House of Representatives in General Court assem- bled May, 1767. The Petition of Sundry persons Grantees of the Town of New Ipswich, lately so called, and the Legal Representatives of the Grantees of 5d Town. Humbly Sheweth That the Great and General Court or Assembly of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, did, in the month of Jan. Anno Domini 1735, grant unto sixty of the Inhabitants of the Town of Ipswich a Township of the con- tents of six miles square which was called New Ipswich; that afterwards the said Township fell within the province of New Hampshire; That your Petitioners after having been at a very great and long con- tinued Expence, lost their several rights in said Township, and became Very great Sufferers, they having built a Meeting House, a saw mill, Bridges, & c., besides Expending a great deal on their Several rights; wherefore your Petitioners humbly pray that your Excellency and Honours would be pleased to take the premises into your consideration and Grant unto them an Equivalent in some of the ungranted lands of this Province, or make them such other compensation as to your wisdom shall seem meet. Among other signatures to this pe- tition are the names of Isaac Apple- ton, Samuel Wigglesworth, Nathan- iel Rogers and several other men of prominence. T 11 e origin of the name Ipswich is a matter of dispute. Some antiquarians believe it to be derived from Eba, a Saxon queen, who lived in the old English town of that name,zvich being of course the Saxon word meaning place or home. Thus Ebaswich was grad- ually corrupted, they say, into Ipswich. Others claim that the name is derived from the river Gip- pen, Ipswich being APPLETON. evolved from Gipps wich, the place of the Gippen or wind- ing river. However this may be, cer- tainly there is no doubt but that the name of the town comes down from a remote period of Saxon sovereignty in the British Islands. In the year 1762, September 9, George the Third, by an Act of Incor- poration, declared the township of Ips- wich incorporated, with all the rights thereof, Always reserving to us, our heirs and successors, all White Pine Trees that are or shall be found grow- ing on the said tract of Land fit for the use of Our Navy. Some years later a second act of incorporation was granted in the same terms as the first, with these two exceptions, that the town is by royal assent called New Ipswich, and the term of duration is unlimited. Abijah Foster, the pio- neer settler of New Ipswich, came from Ipswich in Massachusetts, and took up his abode here in 1738. His wife and infant daughter were with him; and his son, Ebenezer, was the first male white child born in the iso- lated hamlet. There were a sturdy courage and persistence in these pio- neer settlers that arouse a thrill of admiration and respect, when one re- members the loneliness, the hardships and the dangers that were so bravely NEW IFS WICH. 99 and cheerfully borne by them. In- deed, this respect is instinctive, for there is always some village antiqua- rian in our colonial towns who is eager to show the oldest honse, the oldest tombstone, or the oldest inhab- itant of his birthplace, and to rehearse old legends. In New Ipswich there is a very marked interest in this line of research, fostered, perhaps, by the fact that such a number of men of much more than local repute have gone forth into the world beyond the New Hampshire hills from the quiet little town. Just in the rear of the present bank building the visitor is shown the site of Fosters log cabin, in which Eben- ezer was born, and from which both Abijah and Ebenezer went forth to join the ranks that fought in the old French war. It is a matter of some pride to the villagers that Ebenezer, the first citizen by birth, died in the service at Crown Point in 1759. Benjamin Hoar and Moses Tucker V followed Foster; and it was Moses Tucker who in after years remained alone and unaided in the village when the rest of the inhabitants fled before a threatened attack from the Indians. In spite of his neighbors entreaties, and finally their disgust and ridicule, the valiant Moses fortified himself in his cabin and stayed at home. For some reason the Indians changed their plan of action; and Captain Tucker, as he was called, had the laugh on his side when his neighbors came back. The picturesque beauty of the quaint little town, with the hills for a background, and the Souhegan River run- ning like a silver rib- bon through the valley, is very grateful to the senses of the city visitor who chances to seek rest and refresh- ment in this old co- lonial town, teeming with memories of good men just and true.~~ The puritanic influ- ence was strong here a half century ago; and in 1843 there was a split in the church, caused by a disagree- ment among the clergy and elders as to the use of fermented wine in the communion. Looking back, it seems strange that a congre- gation of rational men and women should have lost their heads over such a non-essential point; yet it is signifi- cant of the almost morbid conscien- tiousness of that period, and stands 5AMUEL APPLETON. NEW IP5WICH (APPLETON) ACADEMY. 106) NEW IFS WICH. out as a witness of the very earnest religions feeling of that generation of New Ipswich Christians. It is not remarkable that a locality in which such a strong religious element ex- isted should have sent out twenty-six ministers of the gospel, some of whom gained wide reputation. The old meeting-house was built on the land owned by the Rev. Stephen Farrar, and was destroyed by fire. It was not so common in the early part of the century to use the term minister; the word parson expressed the ecclesiastic distinction. Parson Farrar, besides being the first incumbent of the Congregational church, enjoyed the happy distinction for it was a distinction in those daysof receiving his salaryinmoney. In the musty town records one may read tbat he was paid annually 40 pounds sterling, together with 40 cords of fire wood, which is suggest- ive of the very simple needs of that generation. Notwithstanding the quiet simplicity of his way of living, Parson Farrar held as strong an ~u- fluence over his parishioners as that wielded by any prelate in the pomp of ecclesiastic authority and office. Two of his church members were discuss- ing theology one day. What are your views on the doc trine of infant damnation ? inquired one. I believe the same as Parson Far- rar, was the reply. V\Tell, what does he believe? I dont know, was the rejoinder. You ask him about it. Judge Timothy Farrar, brother of Parson Farrar, was also a citizen who added lustre to the fame of his native town. Judge Farrar was a partner of Daniel Webster in the city of Portsmouth, and was for forty years judge in the supreme and common pleas courts of New Hampshire. When the Constitution of the United States, which by the terms of the instrument was not to go into ef- fect until nine of the original thirteen states should ratify it, was adopted by the last of the nine states, Rhode Island, the governor of New York sent out a messenger to bear the tid- ings. The governors envoy reached New Ipswich on Sunday, June 22, 1790. One can imagine the flutter of excitement that ran through the con- gregation that Sabbath morning, as the elders and deacons and righteous folk sat decorously worshipping and doing their best to follow the parson s discourse in spite of the hum of the bees and the scent of the clover that came in through the open windows, TIMOTHY FARRAR. Tr~. ~m5K OF PARSON FARRAR. ATE liv IFS WICH. I0I when a horseman dashed tip and drew rein at the meeting-house door. How the pious dames must have lost their places in their hymn hooks and the deacons craned their necks toward the doorway at this unusual happen- ing! How the good Parson Stephen brought his sermon to an unpremedi- tated close when he had only reached the ninth head of the discourse, in order to learn the meaning of the strangers advent! Straight up to the judges pew strode the traveller and whispered: Your Honors pardon for this unseemly coming into the Lords house in such fashion; but the gov- ernor of New York bade me find you and announce that the Constitution is ratified, saying: Go, stop at New Ipswich and tell Judge Farrar the good news. Then, mounting his steed, the envoy clattered off down the dusty highroad. One can imag- ine the joy of the stately old patriot, who had fought so valiantly for the ratification of the Constitution! The Farrars were of a hale and sturdy race and lived to see many changes in their IN THE OLD BURYING GROUND. CUPBOARD IN THE FARRAR HOUSE. native town. At the remarkable age of 102 years the judge received a de- gree from Harvard. The news of this honor reached the old gentleman at night. Ab, he remarked with quaint humor, they have stuck a feather in my nightcap ! The visitor to New Ipswich will do well to visit the old Farrar mansion, which stands not far from the little church on the windy hill, where the parson preached and the judge prayed. The house is a very inter- esting specimen of colonial country architecture. Its quaint carved cup- hoards its crossheamed ceilings and ancient mouldings are of beautiful workmanship and unique design. One feels a strong desire to poke about in search of secret hiding places in the nooks and corners of the old house. Not less beloved than Parson Far- rar as a faithful pastor and loyal friend was the Rev. Samuel Lee, who was a Yale graduate and a writer of theological books. Mr. Lee, xvho was a native of Connecticut, was left 102 NEW IFS WICH. fatherless in in- faney. As his mother was in poor circum- stanees she de- cided to apprentice the boy, when he should be old enough, to learn the shoemakers trade; but a very different fate was awaiting him. When quite a young boy he was stricken with some hip disease and his life was despaired of for some time. One day an aged clergy- man came to see the boy. During this visit the old man knelt down by the bedside and prayed fervently that the sick child might recover and become a minister of the gos- pel. These words were the first inspiration to that calling which Samuel Lee followed in after years. Though lamed for life, he recovered, and the ministers prayer was granted. Samuel Lee became a pupil of Peter Parley and was in his youth a school teacher, receiving seven dollars a month for salary, and going about on crutches from one farmhouse to another to board out the rest of his stipend. He left two well-known theological works, his Eschatology, which is a text-book in the New Haven Divinity School, and The Bible Regained, dedicated to his be- loved and only daughter, Sarah Fiske Lee, herself a genealogist of considerable note. OLD FRENCH WALL PAPER IN THE APPLETON HOUSE. NEW IFS WICH. 103 Miss Lee has inherited much of her fathers taste for antiquarian research and curio collecting. At the old parsonage or Lee house, the writer was shown a volume which would have set the heart of a bibliomaniac thumping with desire. This precious tome is a huge Bible, the ancient and yellowed title-page of which hears this legend: Enpriented at London in Flete Strete At the Signe of the Sunne by Edwarde G. Hitchwiche the Last Daie of lanuarie Anno Domine 1548. From the date this must have been one of the Bibles which by the royal decree of Edward the Sixth was or- dered to be chained to the reading desks in the churches in England. Unfortunately, a previous owner had had new covers made for the antique volume, so the traces of the chain by which it had been bound were not visible. To the ranks of workers in the arts and sciences this small inland town has contributed more than her quota. Nathaniel Duren Gould, the pioneer of singing schools, began this work in New Ipswich. He taught sixty thousand children all over New Eng- land during his career, and exerted a decided influence in favor of temper- ance and religion at a time when pro- fessional musicians were almost inva- riably tipplers and scoffers. Augustus Gould, his son, was a man of scientific tastes. He became a co-laborer with Agassiz, and was admitted to fellow- ship in the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and was also a member of the American Philosoph- ical Society. Jonas Chickering, too, whose name is known to-day all over the world, was born in New Ipswich, where as a boy of nineteen he undertook to tune the first and only piano in the village. Prompted by curiosity and a keen interest in mu- sical instruments, Jonas took this piano, which had grown quite useless for want of repairs, entirely to pieces, aiid after infinite labor and many qualms of fear on the part of the owner, no doubt, succeeded in restor- ing it to its pristine tone. This effort was perhaps the mainspring of his ambition to become a piano maker. At all events he soon after came to Boston, and on the day of his arrival secured employment in Osbornes piano factory, at that time the sole one in Boston. In reviewing the names of a long list of professional men who received their early intellectual training in New Ipswich, it is impossible not to recognize the very strong influence that the New Ipswich or Appleton Acadeniy has exerted upon the com- munity. After the close of the Revolutionary War the na- tives of New Ipswich began to consider the urgent neces- sity for an edu- cational institu- tion in their midst. The Far- rars, Champ- neys, Prestons, Barretts, Ap- pletons and Kidders had young sons growing u p, who were now THE FORTUNE TELLER. ready for school; and these and some other gentlemen of the town entered into a compact to maintain and support a school for the space of five years from the date of agreement, which was September 12, 1787. Two years later, 1789, a charter of incorporation was obtained, by which was established in the town of New Ipswich, in the county of Hillsborough, an academy bythe name of the New Ipswich Acad- emy, for the purpose of promoting piety and virtue and for the education of youth in the English, Latin and Greek languages, in Writing, Arith 104 NEW IFS WICH. metic, Music and the Art of Speaking, practical Geometry, Logic, Geog- raphy, etc. This was the second academy incorporated in New Hamp- shire, Phillips Academy in Exeter having heen established and incor- porated five years earlier, in 1784. There was a stipulated union hetween the New Ipswich Academy and Dart- mouth College, the Acad- emy students having cer- tain privileges at Dart- mouth When, later on, the Academy was in want of pecuniary aid, it was through the generosity of Mr. Samuel Appleton that the institution received not only substantial assist- ance, hut a new impetus and vitality. Indeed the Academy is inseparably connected with the name of Appleton, for various * Much information was given the writer of this sketch hy Mr. william A. Preston, the present president of Ap- pleton Academy, whose family has heen for generations officially connected with the institution. memhers of the family made val- uable donations during the early period of its existence. It was Mr. Samuel Appleton who presented globes, philosophical apparatus and a hundred well-bound volumes for the nucleus of a library, when the institu- tion was weak and struggling; while his brother, Isaac Appleton, donated a large and curious folio on geneal- ogy; and Mrs. Dolly Everett, a sister, gave a fine bell to the building in 1831. The Appleton family was one of the most influential in Hillsborough county, and came from a long and aristocratic line of English ancestry. The descendants of Deacon Isaac Appleton and his wife, Mary, have married into some of the most distin- guished families of New England.. One granddaughter became the wife of the poet Longfellow, while another (both daughters of Nathan Appleton) married James Mackintosh, son of Sir James Mackintosh, who was gov- ernor of one of the British West India islands. One of the most interesting features of New Ipswich is the Appleton man- sion, in one or two rooms of which the old French wall paper is still in- tact. The design of this paper is quaint and beautiful, representing FIREPLACE IN THE PARKER IIUUS AN ANCIENT DAME. NEW IFS WICH. 105 scenes on the Seine. The bright green trees reach from floor to ceil- ing, and the little boats, filled with gay Parisians, seem just ready to glide down the river. This colonial home of the Appletons is used to-day as a sort of hotel, and it is an odd chance that has preserved the quaint French wall paper through the chang- ing vicissitudes of time and condi- tions. The village photographer, Lonny Willard, possesses great skill in his art, and the illustrations taken from his photographs for this sketch are excellent specimens of photographic art. Lonny is one of the charac- ters of the village. He combines sev- eral branches of art and trade in his avocations. In response to some questions in regard to his way of life, he confided to the writer that he was a man of varied pursuits. Ive got four businesses, he remarked one day while taking a snap-shot, farm- ing, house painting, photography and chicken raisin; but chickens is the most profitable. Conscientiousness of the sort Miss Jewett depicts in her inimitable sto- ries of New England country life is a large factor in the New England char- acter; and this trait flourishes best in localities where life is simple and natural, and where people have time to think about the great simple ques- tions of right and wrong. The rustic mind may not always know how to deal with certain intricacies of reason- ing, but it lays hold very strongly of certain simple principles of justice, morality and everlasting truth. Some- times there is in a community of this sort a strain of superstition. An ex- tract from a letter to Miss Lee from an aged gentleman, now residing in the West, who remembers the tra- ditions of his early home, illustrates this point. The old gentleman writes: The story has been told me that some of the young bloods of New Ipswich, four- score years ago, met on a Saturday evening in a schoolhouse for the purpose of card playing. The shutters were closed, the tal low candles lighted, and the young men commenced their deals. Their work went pleasantly till the candle had nearly burned down. One of the party suggested that it was time to close the game so as not to trespass on holy time. Another suggested that the candle would soon burn down and that then they would quit; and so, regard- less of the flight of time, they kept on play- ing. The candle continued to burn. Final- ly they heard carriages passing by. The shutters were opened, and to the astonish- ment of all, the sun was high in the heavens. Horror seized the young men. They were convinced that the Evil One had kept the candle burning and that they had been lured on to commit the almost unpardonable sin of breaking the Sabbath! This terrible desecration of holy time, continues Miss Lees correspondent naive- ly, put an end to card playing during that and future generations of New Ipswich residents. From the magnificent carved pulpit in the old Congregational church, which was a gift from Mr. Samuel Appleton, a broader religion is preached to-day. But the atmos- phere of other days and other asso- ciations clings to the place. Here the Reverend Jesse Appleton, presi A VETERAN wILLOw. io6 NEW IFS WICH. dent of Bowdoin College, sat with his beautiful ascetic young face turned upward in prayerful thought to hear the parsons exhortations; here the Champneys, Prestons, Halls, Barrs, Hartwells, Farrars, and all the pious folk of New Ipswich gathered to hear the Word; and the spot is redolent of the past. Turning from it, one walks down through the little town and is con- fronted by evidences of a newer ele- ment. The New Ipswich public library, though perhaps a reflection and result of the old intellectual activity of the place, is essentially modern, and is exerting a wide and beneficent influence throughout the vicinity. Though very much of the money for its erection and establish- ment was earned, a good deal has been generously given by some of the residents. It contains three thousand volumes, a piano, busts of some of our famous authors and many tasteful appointments. Altogether it is an ideal village library, in appearance, management and influence. An interesting feature of the New Ip~xvich of the present is an admirable charity established there by the Rev. George Jarvis Prescott, rector of the Church of the Good Shepherd in Bos ton. This institution is The Home- stead Inn, where wearied-out shop girls, and indeed women laborers of all sorts and conditions can get food, lodging, fresh air and restful quiet, for the small sum of three dollars a week. In many cases even this amount is remitted, if it is beyond the means of the applicant. Mr. Prescott con- ceived the idea of establishing this boarding-house, where plain, whole- some food and comfortable lodging could be offered to the army of pale faced, worn-out shop girls at a nom- inal cost. Several ladies of Boston lent their assistance; and about five years ago the Homestead Inn be- came a fact accomplished in New Ipswich. A long, rambling, wooden house was purchased, a dormitory built, with little partitions dividing the tiny sleeping apartments, and as many comforts azided as the scant amount of money in hand would allow. From the start the institution was successful. Shop girls, dress- makers apprentices, typewriters, seamstresses, housemaids, cooks and THE OLD cONGREG1x11u~AL ~ THE VILLAGE PHOTOGRAPHER. ATEW IFS WICH 107 washerwomen found a peaceful refuge at the Inn. Sometimes women broken in health and spirit, who could not leave home because of children, were taken with their families, though the place is particularly for unmarried women. The delicious soft inland air, the scent of the pine cones, the generous supply of fresh milk and the abundant, substantial food, soon bring back the color to faded cheeks and dim eyes, and it is common to see bright, refreshed women go back to their work in the city after a two weeks sojourn at the Homestead. Sister Katherine, the sister in charge of St. Monicas Home in Boston, goes to the Inn in the summer while St. Monica~ s is closed, and much of the success of the institution is due to her wise management and gentle care. When the curfew rings at sunset and the nine oclock bell tells that it is bedtime, as it has done for a hundred years, the cowled sisters at the Homestead say that the bells ring their vespers and nones for them; so ancient puritanism and modern ritual touch, even if they do not min- gle, in old New Ipswich. Next to the Inn stands the large old-fashioned mansion belonging, to the Barrs and known as The Wil- lows. A little brook wanders through the lawn and off to the meadows beyond, while a colossal willow tree, among whose wide branches, as big as trunks of ordinary trees, are built the most charming of rustic seatsenough to hold forty people comfortably. This tree is said to be the largest willow in New Hampshire, possibly in New Eng- land. The old house belongs to the colonial period, dating back to 1768, and has the capacious fireplaces and cosy corners that make houses of that generation so full of delightful surprises. James Barr, a Scotch gen- tleman, who, while travelling in the American colonies, was caught here when war was declared against Great THE READING ROOM IN THE PUBLIC LIBRARY. io8 NEW IFS WICH. Britain, fell in love with a bright-eyed New I-Iampshire maiden and never went hack to his Highland home. His son, Dr. James Barr, was a prominent physician in New Ipswich. His stnrdy character and genial wit en- deared him to all of the Hillsborough folk for miles around. Miss Ellen M. Barr, whose school for girls in Bos- ton for ten years was recognized as one of the best schools ever condncted in Boston, was a native of New Ips- wich, the daughter of Dr. James Barr. She was born in 1840, and died in 1895. She came to her work in Bos ton after a successful career as a teacher in the High School in the town of Medford, Massachusetts. Few teachers in New England have had the confidence and admiration of a laro~er circle of friends. A grandson of Dr. Barr, James Barr Ames, is now dean of the Harvard Law School. Among the honorable profes- sions that of medi- cine had many fol- lowers in the little town; and the names of Dr. Gibson, Dr. Pres- ton and Dr. Barr will for genera- tions to come be held in affection- ate memory. The visitor who is fortunate enough to drive about the country with an intelligent guide will find many interesting spots. Whitte- more Hill is indelibly associated with the pathetic history of Sally Whitte- more, the New Ipswich witch, whose own father believed in her guilt and refused to allow her Christian burial. Poor little maid, how she must have suffered to find herself shunned and feared by her own flesh and blood! Early in the century a Baptist church was founded in New Ipswich, and Methodism, Unitarianism and Universalism have all contributed their chapters to the ecclesiastical his- tory of the town. A hundred years. ago there were a number of Shakers. in the south part of the town, but most of them removed after a little while to Harvard, Massachusetts. The Miller delusion found its adherents here, as. in so many other New England towns, and at one time five thousand persons gathered at the meetings. In fact,. there have been few religious, social or political movements which have not somehow found their representatives in this old town. It is most interest- ing to read about them all in the his- tory of New Ipswich which one finds in the library, a history published now almost half a century ago. In the in- troduction to this history, which has. been of so great service to the writer~ we read that: THE GIRLS SITTING ROOM IN THE HOMESTEAD INN. REV. GEORGE J. PRESCOTT. NEW IFS WICH. 109 In the summer of 1849 one of the. passage describing the things which authors (Frederic Kidder) visited his na- immediately followed the Concord tive town, to repair the tombstones of his ancestors and collect such materials as he fight: might towards a family history. In wan- dering over the old hurying-ground he was struck with the number of the great and good resting there, whose names and deeds were likely soon to he forgotten. On looking over the town reiords of the period of the Revolution he could not hut admire the firm and hold resolves of the citizens, their clear views of republican principles anfi constitutional liberty, and their self-sacrificing patriotism. He de- sired that some one should chronicle the history of the town, before the loss of rec- ords or the death of the remaining few By preconcerted arrangements the Committees of Safety in the various towns spread the news in all directions; and so rapidly had messengers sped from town to town, that before nightfall not a place within a hundred miles but had heard the news, and in many instances with almost every kind of exaggeration. The intelli- gence reached this town about two oclock in the afternoon; the Committee of Safety immediately assembled on the common and fired three guns in quick succession, the signal that had been agreed on in case whose memory extended back to early times should render it too late. After un- availing efforts to prevail on some one to undertake the task, he concluded to at- tempt it himself. As one turns the pages of a book like this, one realizes anew how much of the real flavor of New England his- tory and life is preserved in snch local works. This history of New Ipswich is dedicated appropriately to Samuel Appleton. Two of its dozen and more chapters are devoted to the Revolution, and very vivid pictures they give us of those times that tried mens souls. Here is a graphic of a sudden alarm. The people rapidly assembled, and in less than two hours a great proportion of the male population met on the little common in front of the meeting-house. After a short consultation with the oldest and most experienced, it was decided to prepare as nany as possible and march for Concord. The towns stock of powder and lead was taken from the magazine, then situated on the heams of the meeting-house, and distributed to such as had not a supply, a careful account of it being taken by the selectmen. In the mean time the alarm was extending through the remote parts of the town, and some of the men whQ were at work in the woods or distant fields did not reach the usual training ground till sunset; and as provisions had to he collected, so much time was consumed that probably hut few Tax HOME5TEAD INN. hO NEW IFS WICH. commenced their march before dark. Sev- eral parties proceeded as far as Captain Healds, where they took a few hours re- pose; and others spent most of the night in and near the middle of the town, but took up their march before daylight; and before the sun rose the next morning not less than a hundred and fifty men, the very bone and muscle of the town, were press- ing forward, some on foot and some on horseback, towards Concord. Provisions were collected and forwarded in carts, under the direction of the Committee of Safety. Deacon Appleton, like Cincin- natus, had left his plough in the furrow at the moment of the alarm, and soon after mounted his horse and carried the news to PAerborough. The next morning a company from that patriotic town, with Captain Wilson in command, passed through New Ips- wich, then nearly deserted by the men, the deacon hastening on with them, not even stopping to take leave of. his family, though he passed near his own door. Then follow pas- sages no less graphic, describ- ing the part taken by New Ipswich men at Bunker Hill. Farther on we come by and by on the excitement which spread all through this New Hampshire country when Stark was gathering his men for Bennington; and here is a picture, given by one of the venerable men whose memory ran back to the time, of the way the New Ipswich men looked as they began their march to Bennington: To a man they wore smallclothes, com- ing down and fastening just below the knee, and long stockings with cowhide shoes ornamented by large buckles, while not a pair of boots graced the company. The coats and waistcoats were loose and of huge dimensions, with colors as various as the barks of oak, sumach and other trees of our hills and swamps could make them, and their shirts were all made of flax, and like every other part of the dress, were homespun. On their heads was worn a large round top and broad- brimmed hat. Their arms were as various as their costume; here an old soldier car- ned a heavy Queens Arm, with which he had done service at the conquest of Canada twenty years previous, while by his side walked a stripling boy, with a Spanish fuzee not half its weight or calibre, which his grandfather may have taken at the Havana, while not a few had old French pieces that dated back to the reduction of Louisburg. Instead of the cartridge box, a large powder horn was slung under the arm, and occasionally a bayonet might be seen bristlin.g in the ranks. Some of .the swords of the officers had been made by our Province blacksmiths, perhaps from some farming utensil; they looked service- able, but heavy and uncouth. Such was the appearance of the Continentals, to whom a well-apopinted army was soon to THE BARRETT MANSION. SIsTER KATHERINE. NEW IFS WICH. III lay down their arms. After a little exer- cising on the old common and performing the then popular exploit of whipping the snake, they briskly filed off up the road, by the foot of the Kidder Mountain and through the Spafford Gap, towards Peter- borough, to the tune of Over the Hills and Far Away. In one of the chapters which follow we read that at the March meeting in i8oi the~ Rev. Mr. Farrar was re- quested to read Washingtons Fare- well Address from the pulpit on the next Snnday, and it was voted to establish it as a custom in future, to have it read the Sunday sncceeding the twenty-second of February. The historian observes that it does not ap- pear how long this custom was main- tained. An interesting contribntion to the history of New Englands part in opening the great West is the record of how certain New Ipswich citizens led a colony out to Iowa, selecting a township now called Denmark in that new state, and rearing a chnrch and school as the corner stones of their town. At the time of the centennial celebration in 1850 the citizens of this daughter town sent back a letter giving an interesting report of them- selves up to date. The centennial celebration was one of the red letter days in the history of the old town. It would be interesting to quote many passages from the elo- quent address of Dr. Augustus A. Gould, the orator of the day. I must content myself, however, with quot- ing a single one: It is now somewhat more than one hundred years since our ancestors pene- trated into the then wilderness and began to clear the region where we are now as- sembled; and we are met to celebrate that event. Some of us have made our habita- tion here since the day of our birth; and in quietude and simplicity, remote from the whirlwind of metropolitan bustle, have been content to live in comparative retire- ment and to move within a very limited sphere. Such have made a wise choice. Others of us, more restless and ambitious, have overleaped these mountain barriers in search of fame, fortune and happiness in wider fields and more exciting scenes. Some have tried the thronged city, with all its bustle, magnificence and wickedness; some have gone to the far West, attracted thither by golden visions, which in most instances proved but visions; some have crossed the ocean to the mother land and have witnessed the splendor of royalty and perhaps enjoyed the smiles of princes; THE BARR MANSION. 112 NEW IFS WICH. old meeting-house on the hill; no institu- tion of learning has excelled the old dis- trict school, where the twig was first bent, and felt too; no festival ever snrpassed in extravagance and in relish the old Thanksgiving dinner; no happiness has been found, far or near, to be com- pared with that at the old country fire- side. Such are some of the interesting things of which one likes to read in the books, as one spends summer days in the historic town, and of which one likes to think, as one walks np and down the villhge street at morning or at night. As the lingering sunbeams fade from the brow of the distant hills, the MISS ELLEN M. BARR. evenino winds waft the sound of a church bell through the quiet valley, they have visited the scenes which are and the initiate tells the stranger that famous in story, and viewed the treasures this is the curfew, which rings now as of nature and art which have required cen- turies for their accumulation; and some it did a hundred years ago. At nine may have even encompassed the globe oclock at night the same sound itself. But, during our wanderings, has breaks the ~stiilness, for this is a rem- not this valley of our birth, encompassed nant of the English custom of ring- by hills which shut out the prospect beyond, reminded us of the valley of Ras- ing the proper bedtime hour, when selasthe happy valley, in which all the thrifty housewives cover the fire with sources of true hap- piness were concen- trated? and though, like Rasselas, we may have contrived to escape from it, and have looked for happiness and con- tentment in the dis- tinctions which wealth and station and learning and success confer, have we not, like him, found sorrow and disappointment and discontent every- where? In behalf of all these rovers I will v e n t u r e to speak, and to say that no Alps have ever appeared to them so formidable as did once the mountains around us; no river has caused us to forget Souhegan; no em- bosomed Swiss or Scottish lakes have seemed more lovely than Pratts Pond; no lofty and crumbling cathedral has im- pressed upon us such reverential awe as the ashes and prepare for slumber. There are few New England villages where the bells have a sweeter sound or where one would seem to have right and title to a sweeter sleep than in this quaint village of old New Ipswich. A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. FROM THE PRINCE COLLECTION OF MANUSCRIPTS. Copied and Edited by C. Alice Baker. VERY remnant of the human life of long ago awakens our interest. The sculptured frieze from a Central Amer- ican forest, a wall of well-laid masonry a thousand feet up on the narrow shelf of some Colorado cafion, Danish kitchen-mid- den and Florida shell heap, bronze celt from an English barrow, gro- tesque pipe from an Ohio mound, pile of the Lake dweller, pestle of the Cave man, beads from the stone graves of Tennessee and arrow points from the fields of New England,all these relics of nations that have vanished, leaving only these hints of their civil- ization, fill us with wonder and appeal to our sympathy. From nothing, however, can xve gain such vivid and complete pictures of the social and domestic life and thought of a former generation as from the diaries and correspondence it has left behind. These give us the truest illustrations of character and society, because un- studied and not intended for the pub- lic gaze. I must believe that it is a tender human sympathy, rather than mere vulgar curiosity, that makes us always so eager to untie the faded rib- bon surrounding a bundle of old let- ters, though at the moment one can hardly help a certain sense of treach- ery towards those by whom and those to whom the letters were written. In this instance we may absolve ourselves in advance, by remembering that the originals of the following letters are at least two hundred years old, have long been public property, and are equally accessible to all the land. In 1607 a ten years old boy on Cape Cod was seized with a mania for col- 3 lecting (verily there is nothing new under the sun!) As this was long be- fore the days of postage stamps and advertising cards, Thomas Prince turned his attention to collecting books. His grandfather was at that time governor of the Old Colony, and doubtless the boy had better opportu- nities than most for adding to his hoard. On the day he entered Har- vard College, in 1703, at the age of sixteen, IPrince gave the name of The New Engl~ind Library to his collec- tion, and from that time on never missed an opportunity to enrich it by the addition of all the volumes and manuscripts pertaining to the history of New England that he could lay his hands on. In 1718, Thomas Prince was or- dained pastor of the Old South Church in Boston. By will he bequeathed the New England Library to this church, with the especial provision that any person approved by the pastor and deacons of the same might have access to, and take coppies therefrom. At his death, these valuable books and manuscripts were left on shelves and in boxes and barrels in the steenle chamber, a little room under the bel- fry of the Old South Meeting-house, which Prince had used as a study. Then came the siege of Boston, and the desecration of the Old South Meet- ing-house by Colonel Birchs light- horse dragoons, who used it as a rid- ing-school. The ~ld North Meeting- house and Governor Winthrops house were torn down for fuel for the freezing Tories. The lawless dragoons ripped up the pulpit and pews of the Old South and split them up for firewood. Deacon Hubbards beau- tifully carved pew with the silk furni-~ liz! A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. ture was taken down and carried off by an officer and made into a hog- stye, so writes Mr. Timothy Newell, one of the selectmen of Boston, indig- nantly in his diary. More than once during that terrible winter, Mr. Select- man Newell is invited to dine on rats. Ransacking the building from bel- fry to cellar for kindling stuff, the sol- diers came upon the boxes containing the precious books and papers which Thomas Prince had spent his life in collecting, and destroyed much of their contents. Among many valua- ble papers that survived all these vicis- situdes was this package of old love letters. They were written at the period of Philips War, by the Rev. Richard Bourne of Sandwich, to his esteemed friend the Widow Ruth Winslow, at her place in Marshfield. They show him to have been a shrewd reader of feminine character, as well as an ardent and constant lover under difficulties. He was a man of excel- lent judgment and a sincere Christian. Stimulated by the success of the apostle Eliot, he acquired a thorough knowledge of the Indian language, and devoted himself to Christianizing the Marshpee Indians, over whom he was ordained as pastor by Eliot him- self. Mrs. Ruth Winslow was his second wife. She was many years his junior and a widow of about thirty-five when these letters were written. The hand- writing is so original in character, that it is almost like a cipher intended to be legible only to the person ad- dressed. Endorsed on the first letter, and showing the methodical habits of the collector, is the following note, subscribed with the beautiful auto- graph of T. Prince: This excellent Gentlewoman I very well knew when I was a Youth. She was Dtr to ye eminently pious Mr Wm Sargent of Barnstable. She 1st mar- ried to Mr Josiah Winslow of Marsh- field.* After her 5d Husbands de *The editor thinks she married Jonathan, son of Mr. Josish Winslow. cease, she married to Mr Richard Bourne of Sandwich I suppose in lune 1677, w0 dying in ye summer of 1682 left his homested . . . to her use during Life, where she lived with her 3rd Husband Elder John Chip- man. . . . And this Mrs Ruth Chip- ian w s a Little, lively smart Gentle- woman of very good sense and knowl- edge of ye strictest Piety, an excellent spirit of Family Govt, very good skill in ye Diseases of Women and children, very helpfull to her neighbours,a dear intimate Friend and mother to my mother; and my mother falling into travail with me . . . this Mrs Chip- man was ye only Person, w0 living just by, occasionally help me into ye world, She survivd the Elder and lived and died in gt esteem. It must have been a woman of no ordinary character who, notwithstand- ing so serious a personal blemish as a cancer on her lip, could have capti- vated three such worthy and distin- guished men. I. Front f/ic Rev. Richard to the Widow Ruth, assuring her of his stead fast- ness, notwithstanding some unto- wardness of events. This 5th of 12th, r676.* Dearly Beloved, my tenderest re- spects presented to you, I make bold to trouble you with ofttimes, although I am implisitly forbidden in the mar- gins of yours. Yet as respecting my- selfe, it is no trouble to me either to write or to come to see you, or any other lawfull meanes to obtain your favor in these respects. The truth is I long to see you [mutilated and illegi- ble] . . . and presious in my eyes, and should have been with you this last week, my horse was even at the door, but providence soe ordering that the last week there came a message to me from hyngham, sent on purpos to aquaint mee that my son [was] very sick and desired one of his broth- k Fehruary ~, 1676. ,A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. 5 ers to come to him, who had my horse for that journey, and when hee will returne I know not, and bye next week I had promised to bee with the Indians upon the Capebefore I re- seived Mr Arnolds letter whom I canot disapoint, and some other oc- cupations concerning the estate left by my son dying without a will, and I not having given deeds of ye land, must see that the widow and children be not destitute, I have to bee at March Court if the Lord will, and I purpos then to see you or shortly after the court. We had a report gave concerning the can- cer in your lipp, that it was grown very bad and dangerous and I not having reseived Mr Arnolds letter was troubled and at a great stand, yet resolved to wait to see the issue of things when God would dispose. in respect of the cancer, the which if it should grow to bee incurable would not be comfortable either to yourselfe or mee, but I hope God in mercy will prevent it, you may feel safe to con- clude that I shall not desert my suit to you in this particular of an hope of comming together for our mutuall comfort. I have had divers motions since I received yours, but none suits me but yourselfe, if God soe incline your mynde to mary me. Whether soe I shall arrange my condition or not I cannot declare at present if it bee not with yourselfe. I doe not finde in myselfe any fiexableness to any other but an utter loatheness. I was in- formed that you was to come to Capt. ifullers againe. If you should, I should be glad to see you, and if you want money and means to accomplish a cure for you, I know of a friend of yours who will satisfie you, but if you should goe elsewhere for cure for you I pray you let mee understand from you when it will be, and if it bee not impossible for mee to come I shall come and give you a visit before you goe. I would not have you to under- stand that I am not cordiall. [This part of the letter is much mu- tilated; only a few detached phrases are legible.~ I pray psent my re spects to our mother-in-law and your uncle John. I did neglect it the last time I writt to your uncle, because I was not willing that it should beemade known at present, but there was I sup- pose some of your relations and neigh- bours that made report of it in divers plases; but now I doe not regard who knowes of it and I should bee very glad that it were accomplished. I would enlarge further, but multiplisity of ocations prevents more and must at presant rest, hopeing that you will please to returne mee a few lines from your own hande, by waye of answere, and the good Lord bee with you and guide you in a way pleasing unto Him. Your assured reall friend, RICHARD BOURNE. II. The Rev. Richard excuseth his neglect to visit the Widow Ruth. Ius spirits be- ing weighed down by illness and death nn his family and neighborhood. it doth not suite him to goe more abroad at present. SANDWICH this j6tli of ye 12th, 76. My well beloved, upon whom my desires and affections are fixed, long- ing to see you but am as yet prevented. I did intend to give you a visit the next weeke, but God disposing other- wise, as that my son who was at hyng- ham was taken with the diseas that many have dyed of, who was sick about five weeks and dyed last Satur- day, and was buryed the last Lord~. day, so that at present my spirits are soe full of heavyness that it doth not suite to goe more abroad at present, but I must bee at March Court if I bee well, conserning some spetiall ocation. As conserning the causer, I would en- treat you to use what meanes may be possible to obtaine a cure, with the blessing of God, wherefore do not de- laye the tyme untill it bee too late, and if you want snpplye you knowe what I wrote in my last conserning that. I am the same still. You shal not want for 5 or more if you please to accept of it. And for your seeking advise and counsell from your father A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. and others it suites mee very well. I desire nothing but what may be in a way of God yet I would desire that it might not bee (lisciosed to any for [mutilated] shall nothing chang my mynde respecting, yourselfe, unless it bee death or the prevailing of your cancer, if it bee not your default, whieh I hope it will not bee. I am just nowe very desolate. Consider of it. I shall endeavor to see you soe soone as I can with any conveniency, and doe not judg I slight you but I hope you will please to put a better con- struction upon it considering how it hath been with mee. . . . I was with your father the last second day and the fourth day this weeke. They are all in indifferent health. Your father and mother I spake with both of them. Your brother I saw not. He was well they told mee, but was abroad on his ocations. I desired your father to send you a letter by mee the which hee did intend to doe, but hee not having spoken to Mr. Thacher, could not well doe it at present. I conclude hee will sende to you the next weeke. They both, your father and mother desiring kindly to bee remembered to you, and doe earnestly desire [you] not to neg- lect any means to attain unto a full cure. Concerning the mayd that you wrote your father concerning, al- though the 3 weekes is this day ex- pired, yet they both doth desire you to retaine her if possible untill the latter part of next weeke for as I understand, they have procured James who comes to Plimouth next week upon his owne ocation, and have prevailed with him to fetch her for them, your brother being ingaged to a man to help him, the which he canot decline and therefore canot come at present. This desiring the Lord to bless guide and direct von in the way that may be pleasing before him. I rest at present desiring von would present my re- spects to Mr. Arnold, with your mother-in-law and the rest of your friends. Yours in the best bonds RICHARD BOLTRNE. I pray you when you have reseived these lines, either conceale them or burn them [mutilated] . . . I shall give you if God bring mee to speake with you. III. The Rev. Richard driveth a good bar- game for Mrs. Ruths rye at Flim- with, but meetynge with a disquiet- ness there doth not proceed to Marshileld. SANDWICH this 30th of 2nd 1677 Dearly beloved my tenderest re- spects presented. I being at Plimouth, and making some enquiry to put of some rye for you if you approve of it, I meeting with one Samuel Eaton of Middleboro who stands in extream nesesity for about 6 bushells, I en- quired of him what his pay might bee. His answer was Indian corn at 3 shil- lings per bushel at harvest, and pay it in Plimouth to the Secretary, and soe it will bee at Sandwich without any trouble. And for the rye it must bee at 3S 6~ per bushell, and hee to fetch it at your house. You may doe as it semeth good untoe you because I would not take upon mee to dispose of anything of yours, yet the mans ex- tremity seemes to require some, and if you fail I hope I shall make it good to you againe. You may put it to my ac- count I shall repay it. There was one more that spoke to me concerning 20 bushells, I told him that he must give 3S a bushell in silver at the fall or in october and fetch it at your house. It was Robert Hanson of Plymouth. It is reported of him that he doth pay very well. But be pleased to doe as you see fit. What I did, was only to make way for you to dispose of some with little trouble. But I met with a little disquietness when I was discoursing with Robert Hanson concerning the rye, and some cattle he had bought of mee. Your sister was above in the chamber with divers others, and sent to mee to come to speak with her and that three times. I sent her word that I was upon going home, my horse was ready at the door. A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS 7 and if shee pleased to come down to mee and deliver her mind what shee had to saye to mee it would be well. She would not, but I must come to her, and fearing that she would judge that I was either proud or courteous,* I went up to her and cald for one quart of wine to make the drink. There was Captain Southworth, George Watson and divers more I suppose in all io or 12. She asked mee when her mother intended to come to them. I answered I could not tell, but you had soni thoughts when your lip was pretty well, to come to Barustable to see your father and mother, and to get a mayd to bee with your mother untill you re- turned againe. And som discourse we had further, but at last, shee intimated that she intended to sue for the land after that wee were maryed. I told her that I thought the magistrates would end the difference. Noe, shee sayd, it must be put out to 12 judges; att which I was a little troubled. The Captain and George Watson cald her aside, being much troubled that shee should send for mee soe oft, and wrangle with me at the last, and did rebuke her much; and George told mee much more that was spoken; but I give you but a hint of things. I would not have you disquieted con- seining these things, though I am troubled that shee should deale soe unkindly with you. I would entreat you to hasten things as much as you can, that wee may put an end to these things, in our mutuall closing together in the nearest bonds. And for what von nowe have, I doe not desire any of it, but you may please to keep it for your own improvement, and I hope 1 shall make a suitable addition to what you have. You may please to remem- ber that I did intimate soe much to you when I was with you, though I shal be willing to advise and hear if you have occasion. Your person and qualifications doth soe farrsatisfiemee, that I hope wee shall have noe neede to improve your estate, soe long as 1 have of my owne, for I may truely saye, that I seeke not yours, but you. Therefore I pray make uoe delays more than is nesessary, and for others, in what they may attempt, the will of the Lord be done. . . . I pray doe mee the favoure to write a few lines to mee, that I may understand how it is with you, and present my respects to Mr Arnold, your mother with your uncle and his wife. If I thought or could understand that it would be long before you could come, I would make another journey to see you. The good Lord keep you, and blesse the meanes used for your good and healing, and teach you by all, to come nearer to himselfe and depend upon Him more. He will not leave you nor forsake you. I rest in the expectation shortly to see you or to heare from you. Your assured loving friend, RIcuARD BOURNE. IV. At this ]uncture, the Widow Ruth hav- ing bemoaned her widowed state to her father, he adviseth her accordingly in a letter addressed, To his Beloved Daughter Ruth Winslow at her place in Marshfield. These deliver. Loving daughter Winslow, my kind respects of love, together with my wives remember untoe you: as also untoe our aged sister Winslow, with the rest. These are toe let you knowe and understand, that I received a letter from you lately by Samuel Thomas, wherein you doe bemoane your sad and solitary afflicted condition unto mee, wherein I desire from my very hart to sympathize xvith you in as far as the Lord will vouchsafe to help and assist. . . . I am sorry to heare that Mr Arnold* is brought soe weake an(l lowe by the stroke of the Lords hand. The good Lord restore and renewe him againe, for the helpe of you all. My wife is also concerned with mee. to heare of your former hopes of soe easy and spedy A cure of the painful malady of your lipp, are soe much *. By courteous it is evident that tise writer means curt. * The minister of Marshfield. ii8 A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. weakened by a late returne of it work- ing downward towards your throat, which I soe understand, works you att times much unrest; And if soe it bee indeed with you, it puts me to the greatest fear and jelozie whether you have not aplied to take unto the less promising, instant meanes of your cure, and neglected the more hopeful season and instrument of it. But this is but my fear and jelozie. The Lord can give answer at what time he him- selfe pleases, and by what meanes and instrument. You have further desired further advise from me respecting your change of condicon. This I may further intimate unto you plainly, that you know the person as well as I doe, whose hart and affection the Lord hath pitched and plased on you, as he saith, before al others, to make you his wife. In case you can find the like in yourselfe, to wit, the Lord soe placing yours on him, and carrying out your affections to him as to preserve him in your voluntary choyse before and above all others, to make him your head and husband, notwithstanding the disparity of your ages, or what else hath been premised,yet if you bothe remaine stedfast each to other, stil I doe judge the Lord cals mee to leave you to your liberty of chois. The messenger now waits for my let- ter. I am forced to break of, intreat- ing you to be careful of taking new colds, through your much business and stirring. Soe I comit you to the care and blessing of the most High God, to guide and preserve you. Soe I rest your loving Father and Mother WILLIAM and SARAH SARGENT from Barustable this 17th of May 1677. V. The Rev. Richard to the Widow Ruth, with a gift, and cogent arguments for her speedy coming to him. SANDWICH Inne I. 1677. Dearly beloved, my tender and constant love presented to von. Yours I received by Ezra,* upon ye 30 of May last,and should have been very glad if that you had been pleased to have writ more fully unto me, hoxv it was with you respecting your sore; and when your determina- tion was to come this way. Your presence is most desired, not only by myselfe but many others, insomuch that Mr Smythe told mee but 2 dayes since hee would acompany some one himselfe to come to you to helpe you along hither. I gave him thanks for his kind proffer, and told him that it was not convenient at present, foras- much as that I was not aquainted with your capasity and ability to come soe sudenly. I sent a letter to you and some other things by Mordecai Ellis the last weeke, and he promised to bring them to your hands at the last second day but I understand since, that he left them at Samuel Hunts at Duxhury. I hope Ezra will bring them to yow. I have likewise sent you by Ezra a small token. I am almost ashamed to send it to you, it is so mene, but I pray accept of it in remembrance of my love. I bought a parcel of them this spring,they may be useful for working dayes. I spake with Ezras father and this is the sum of his answer, that hee desired to know why you are soe willing to let him goe. I told him forasmuch as that you could not get him to doe anything to speake of but he intended to come the latter part of the next week and see how things was, but not willing hee should be released. I would earnestly in- treat you to let mee understand by a few lines from you the next week, by my cosen Steven or any other that comes to you from mee,it may bee that my youngest son may come to give you a visit, if tyme will permit him soe to doe: and let me fully understand how it is with you respect- ing your cancer, and what prepara- tions you have made as conserning * Ezra had evidently been bonnd ont to the widow, and apparently, taking advantage of her weak condition, was not living op to the terms of his indenture. A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. 9 your removal. I cannot come to you at present. I am not well, neither have been since I came home,trou- bled with my old paine. If you doe not hasten to come, I must bee con- strained to bring my ocations into a narrower compass. Though you should not be well of your cancer, yet I pray you make hast to come. If you want mony to accomplish things for your good and healing, it is ready for you. You may bee your own surgeon here, as well as at Marshfield. I have sent you here in- closed Ezras indenture, and the next weeke I shall send you the Inventory and the letters of administration. I pray present my respects to Mr Arnold, if living, with your mother-in- laxv, and to your uncle Iohn. I de- sire the good Lord to bestow upon you all the good you stand in need of for soul or body, and give you faythe and patiens to support your spirits under all your sorrows, and here rest at present your constant and loving friend RICHARD BOURNE. VI. The Rev. Richard disturbed in mind concerning the Widow Ruths inten- tions towards him, writeth a third letter, hoping thereby to provoke one from her. SANDWICH this 4th of lune J677. Dearly Beloved my best Respects presented. I hope you have two let- ters of myne come to your hand by this time. This may possibly pro- voke one from you unto mee. I longe to heare from you, though I cannot see you at present. I have been ill ever since I came home, and yesterday very ill the greatest part of the day and the last night, but now indifferent well,but soe that I dare not take such a journey at present. I pray let mee understand as fully as you can how it is with you, and when you intend to come this way, and when you think to remove, and what you finde in my 2 other letters, I pray let me understand as fully as you can in answer. I would intreat you to hasten though your lip should not be well. I shall have a little wool mayhap, and I would desire your ad- vice whether I had best to sell or to keepe it: not that Ii would have you to doe any about spinning, but if you have a mayd it may bee you maye desire shee may doe what you will. I have sent you here inclosed the in- ventory and liberty of ad.ministration. I am in great hast at present and must forbear, with an expectation to hear from you this week by Steven or my son; and the good Lord doe for you according to all your nesessity. Your assured and constant friend RICHARD BOURNE. VII. The Rev. Richard is as much revived in his spirits by a letter from the Widow Ruth brought by Steven Skiff, as he hctth been before cast down by that sent by Ezra. SANDWICH this i i of lune. 1677. Dearly beloved, my tenderest love and affection presented unto you. Yours I have reseived by Steven Skiff, and I did sudenly write a few lines to your father concerning what you desired, concerning your brother coming for you at the tyme appointed by you: and if your brother canot come for you, I will send for you, but I would desire you to inform mee whether I shall send a pillion for you to ride upon my horse in case your brother canot come. I am much revived in my spirits upon the receipt of yours, and was as much cast down by your letter Ezra brought to mee being so short and constrained as conserning myselfe, in- somuch that I was ready to doubt, whether your mynd was not alienated from mee or not, but I began to re- cover myselfe againe since I reseived 120 A PACKAGE OF OLD LOVE LETTERS. yours, though could have desired you had written more fully to mee con- seining thinges betwixt us. But I would intreat you to signifie to mee in a few lines by William whether you are not inclinable to change your name here before you returne againe to Marshfielde. You may easily understand my meaning. It is nesessary I should know, be- cause of providing something for the tyme. If I mistake not it was our agreement formerly I would put the best construction upon things. It may bee your bashfulness or shame- facedness, I hope wee shall bee better aquainted one with another, before long. For the rye if it canot bee con- veniently disposed of, it may bee brought hither if you think meet soe to come, with the rest of the things. For Ezra I know not xvhat to say. I have aquainted his father with my apprehentions. I have sent you one paire of shoes by William. I pray make use of them, you have them freely. I would I could know wherein I could doe you good. I think I should doe it if I were able soe to doe. I would intreat this favour from you, to come to our house as you goc to Barustable. Doe not break m~ heart quite as to goe by, and not see me; and let me have a few lines from your hand by William. This desir- ing and hoping that the Lord will ac- complish good for you notwithstand- ing all your sad sorrows. I pray present my service and re- spect to his honor, and to Mr Arnold with your mother and uncle; and here rest, expecting a comfortable answer from your loving and Constant friend RICHARD BOURNE. VIII. The Rev. Richard having apparently received a comfortable answer writeth as follows, To his most esteemed friend Captaine Southworth in Dux- bury.* SANDWICH this i8th June 1677 Sir all due respect presented,I make bould to intreat a favor from you to be added unto the many that I have already reseved from you: the which is, that you would please to come to Sandwich, to joyne my well beloved Mrs Ruth Winslowe and my- selfe in marriage. James will aquaint you with the tyme when hee hath conferred with her, forasmuch as that I have written unto her as con- seining the time I apprehend to be most suitable; but how shee may bee inclinable for time and place wee were not fully agreed,I not knowing be- fore when shee might suitably come this way. And if you should come, if you would please to aquaint George Watson that hee might acompany you hither, hee shall have good wel- come, but I would not have words made of it, lest there might be offence taken by some. The truth is I am ashamed to be soe troublesome unto you, but having former experience of your loving rediness towards mee upon all ocations doth embolden mee to write these few lines at present, not doubting but you will please to come to doe this for mee. I understand that Mr. Lindlev~ canot bee at home at that tyme. I pray you let mee have an answer by James . This, hoping of your welfare with yours, I rest at present yours to comand. RIChARD BOURNE. *Tltjs is the son of the widow Alice Southworth, who came to Plymouth to marry Iser old lover, Gov. iVilliam Bradford. The minister of Sandwich. EDiTORS TABLE. ON the Fourth of July, 1899, the members of the International Peace Conference at the Hague assembled at the tomb of Hugo Grotius, in the great church at Deift, to do honor to his memory. It was by invitation of our American commissioners that they gathered there. In accordance xvith instruc- tions from the President, and in behalf of the people of the United States, the chairman of our commission, Hon. Andrew D. White, laid on the tomb a massive silver wreath, combining the oakrepresentative of civic virtue and the laurelrepresentative of vic- tory, and inscribed: To the Mem- ory of Hugo Grotius, in Reverence and Gratitude, from the United States of America, on the Occasion of the International Peace Conference at The Hague, July 4th, 1899. The wreath encloses two shields, one bearing the arms of the House of Orange and of the Netherlands, the other the arms of the United States, both shields bound firmly together. They repre- sent, said Mr. White, the gratitude of our country, one of the youngest among the nations of the earth, to this old and honored commonwealth, gratitude for great services in days gone by, gratitude for recent courte- sies and kindnesses; and, above all, they represent to all time a union of hearts and minds in both lands for peace between all nations. The address delivered by Mr. White on this noteworthy occasion was one of the most eloquent and adequate tributes ever paid to Grotius. He felt deeply that Grotius had been the first great incarnation of the spirit and principle whose continued working in the world had at last brought this In- ternational Peace Conference; and he spoke not simply as an American, but as an international man, a citizen of the world, feeling empowered to speak words of gratitude not only from his own country, but from all countries represented at the Conference. Nat- urally, he said to the great body of commissioners gathered in the church, we have asked you to join us in this simple ceremony; for his name has become too great to be cele- brated by his native country alone it can only be fitly celebrated in the presence of representatives from the whole world. For the first time in hu- man history there are now assembled delegates with a common purpose from all the nations; and they are fully represented here. . . . Not only is this the first conference of the entire world, but it has as its sole purpose a further evolution of the principles which Grotius first of all men devel- oped thoroughly and stated effec- tivelv. Mr. White did not fail to remark upon the special significance of the time and place as concerned America. The day of the meeting was the anni- versary of our national independence; and from the Haven of Delftthe ancient city in which Grotius was born, whose pavements he trod when a child, and in whose great church at last he was laid to restsailed the Mayflower, bearing the Pilgrim Fathers, who in a time of obstinate and bitter persecution brought to the American continent the germs of that toleration which had been especially developed among them during their stay in the Netherlands, -and of which Grotius was an apostle. He noticed the particular debt of the United States to Grotius, the extent to which his thought had penetrated and infin 122 EDITORS TABLE. enced the great mass of our people, the eagerness of the young men in our colleges and universities to under- stand the fundamental principles of international rights and duties, and the work of such American scholars as Wheaton, Kent, Field, Woolsey, Dana and Lawrence in developing the ideas to which Grotius first gave life and strength. He mentioned three noteworthy American examples of the fruitage of these ideas: the act of Lincoln, who, amid the fury of the civil war, recog- nized the necessity of a humaner code for the conduct of our armies and in- trusted its preparation to Francis Lieber, Grotiuss leading American disciple; the magnanimity of General Grant in accepting Lees surrender; and the generosity of the whole people when the bitter contest closed, and the fraternity of the blue and the gray on Decoration Day. Surely I may claim for my countrymen, he said, that, whatever other shortcomings and faults may be imputed to them, they have shown themselves influ- enced by those feelings of mercy and humanity which Grotius, more than any other, brought into the modern world. Noticing the frequent criticism of Grotius as the main source of the doc- trine which founds human rights upon an early social compact, Mr. White said: It would ill become me, as a representative of the United States, to impute to Grotius as a fault a theory out of which sprang the nationality of my country; a doctrine embodied in that Declaration of Independence which is this day read to thousands on thousands of assemblies in all parts of the United States from the Atlantic to the Pacific and from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. Notic- ing the frequent objection that Grotius dwelt too little on what inter- national law really was, and too much on what in his opinion it ought to be, he asked whether it is certain after all that Grotius was wrong in this, and whether international law may not more and more draw inspiration from the Power which works for Righte- ousness; and he said: An American recalling that greatest of all arbitra- tions ever known, the Geneva Arbi- tration of 1872, naturally attributes force to the reasoning of Grotius. The heavy damages which the United States asked at that time and which Great Britain honorably paid were justified mainly, if not wholly, not on the practice of nations, then existing, but upon what it was claimed ought to be the practice; not upon positive law, but upon natural justice; and that de- cision forms one of the happiest land- marks in modern times; it ended all quarrel between the two nations con- cerned and bound them together more firmly than ever. * * * It would not be possible to pay a loftier tribute than that which Mr. White pays to Grotiuss great treatise, Dc Jure Belli ac Pacis. Of all works not claiming divine inspiration, that book, by a man proscribed and hated both for his politics and his religion, has proved the greatest blessing to hu- manity. More than any other, it hats prevented unmerited suffering, misery and sorrow; more than any other, it has promoted the blessings of peace and diminished the horrors of war. The tribute is just. Mr. White recognizes the obligations of Grotius, as Grotius himself so explicitly recognized them, to the writers who preceded him, such men as Isidore of Seville, Suarez, Ayala and Gentilis. But when all this is acknowledged, he clearly sees Grotius, while rising from among these men, grandly towering above them. He sees in Grotius the first man who brought the main principles of those earlier thinkers to bear upon modern times, increasing them from his own creative mind, strengthening them from the vast stores of his knowledge, enriching them from his imagination, glorifying them with his genius. His great mind, says Mr. White, brooded over that earlier chaos of opinion, and from his heart and brain, more than from those of any EDITORS TABLE. 123 other, came a revelation to the mod- ern world of new and better paths toward mercy and peace. ]3ut his agency was more than that. His com- ing was like the rising of the sun out of the primeval abyss; his work was both creative and illuminative. We may reverently insist that in the do- main of international law Grotius said, Let there be li~ht! and there was light. This is indeed a memorable word; but it is hardly an extravagant one. Instructive is Mr. Whites survey of the history of the period of the appear- ance of Grotiuss great treatise it was published amid the horrors of the Thirty Years Warand the times im- mediately succeeding. The new gos- pel was little heeded. The light shone in the darkness, and the dark- ness comprehended it not. Yet, says Mr. White at the close of his survey, we see that the great light streaming from his heart and mind continued to shine; that it developed and fructified human thought; that it warmed into life new and glorious growths of right reason as to international relations; and we recognize the fact that, from his day to ours, the progress of reason in theory and of mercy in practice has been constant on both sides of the At- lantic. * * * We count it a real misfortune that there is no good English translation of Grotiuss great work on The Rights of War and Peace, published in a single volume, easily available by all readers. The excellent abridged translation by Whewell occupies three volumes, being accompanied by the complete Latin text, and is a work de- signed for scholars. Moreover, pub- lished in 1853, it is now rare, found only in the best libraries. Why will not some good publisher at this time bring out Whewells translation by it- self, aside from the Latin text, in a sin- le cheap volume? It would be a public service. Meantime, the directors of the Old South work in Boston have rendered a real service by publishing the prol- egomena or introduction to Grotiuss great work as one of their Old South leaflets. It is certainly calculated to be one of the most useful in this ex- tensive series, now numbering more than a hundred leaflets, which fur- nishes documents of so great histor- ical value for the mere cost of print- ing, five cents a copy, to the schools and the public. The present leaflet gives the entire introductory chapter of The Rights of War and Peace, in which the fundamental principles of the work are so fully and strongly stated; and this is accompanied by ex~ tracts from Mr. Whites impressive address upon our debt to Grotius, from which we have here quoted, and by brief historical notes. The leaflet should do much to draw new attention to the thought of Grotius and to his pre~minent service in behalf of the better organization of the world. If, with Mr. Whites address and other words growing out of the Hague Con- ference, it should stimulate such a de- gree of attention and study as to create a demand for a good popular edition of the whole work, it would perform its best possible service. * * * The first thing that impresses us as we read this general introduction to Grotiuss great work is its modern- ness. Here, after the almost three centuries, we find our own problems stated, and the evils and objections discussed of which to-days news- papers are full. Indeed the most mod- ern and impressive things are not those which Grotius draws from his own times, but those which he cites from far antiquity. The world had al- ways been full of people, just as it was when he wrote, who despised all talk of international law. He recalls the saying of Euphemius in Thucydi- des,that for a king or a city which has an empire to maintain, nothing is unjust which is useful; and to the same effect is the saying that, for those who have supreme power, the equity is where the strength is. That war is EDITORS TABLE. far from having anything to do with rights is not only the opinion of the vulgar, but even learned and prudent men let fall expressions which favor such an opinion. It is very usual, he says, to put rights and arms in op- l)osition to each other; and he quotes the line of Ennius, They have re- course to arms and not to rights, and lines from Horace and other poets to the same effect. Antigonus, he notes, laughed at a man who, when be was besieging his enemies cities, brought to him a dissertation on jus- tice. ~ Grotius, in these citations, takes us back to a time two millenniums ago. If he could have listened forward three centuries, he would have been dis- heartened and appalled to find that this was still a fashionable dialect and that the spirit which he execrated was rampant and dominant in the Amer- ican Senate and the British Parlia- ment on this eve of the twentieth cen- tury. If we pleaded our Hague Con- ference and Lake Mohonk, he might tell us that he wanted something more than rhetoric,that as for rhet- oric, he could bring us some of that on the side of internationalism also from two millenniums ago. For vet more impressive than his array of classical statements of the principles upon which Christian America and England are waging their this years wars is the passage in which he shows us how the better minds of pagan Greece and Rome were thrilled by visions of universal jtistice and the or- ganization of the world: If no society whatever can be preserve(l without the recognition of mutual rights, assuredly that society which includes the whole human race, or at any rate the greater part of nations, has need of the recognition of rights, as Cicero saw when he said that some things are so bad that they are not to be done even for the sake of saving our country. Aristotle speaks with strong condemnation of those who, while they will allow no one to hold rule among themselves except him who has the right to do so, yet in their dealings with strangers have no care of rights or the vio- lation of rights. A little while ago we quoted Pompey for his expression on the other side; yet, on the other hand, when a certain Spartan king had said, Happy that republic which has for its boundaries the spear and the sword, Pompey cor- rected him and said, Happy rather that which has justice for its boundary. And to this effect he might have used the authority of another Spartan king, who gave justice the preference over military courage on this ground,that courage is to be regulated by justice, but, if all men were just. they would have no need of courage. Courage itself was defined by the Stoics as virtue exercised in defence of justice. The name of Minos became hate- ful to posterity in no other way than this, that he terminated his equity at the bonn daries of his own government. Themistius, in an oration to Valens, eloquently urges that kings, such as the rule of wisdom re- quires them to be, ought not to care for the single nation only which is committed tc them, but for the whole human race. They should be, as he expresses it, not philo-Macedonian only, or philo-Rornan, but philanthropic. How near to that have we got in our practice to-day? Is even our preach- ing to-day better? If these old pagans could open their mouths to us after this fashion in this year of grace, tell- ing us sharply that it was a disgrace for us, after these twenty centuries, to be thinking of ourselves in the first place as Americans or Englishmen or Frenchmen or Germans or Russians, instead of in the first place simply as men, as citizens of the world,if they should say this, their words would sur- prise and startle the common ear. Some Christians would mock; and others would say, We will hear thee again of this matter. * 0 The social impulse, muttial corn pact and the will of God,these are the foundations upon twhich Grotius builds his argument for universal law an(l an organized world. The asser- tion that man is by nature impelled to seek only his own individual advan- tage he refuses to concede. Among the properties peculiar to man is a (lesire for society, for a life spent in common with fellow-men, and not merely spent somehow, but spent EDITORS TABLE. 125 tranquilly and in a manner cor- responding to the character of his intellect. lvi an is by nature a social being, not to be under- stood without the presupposition of society, impelled by the very princi- ples of his nature to social relations and development, and this in ever higher degree and wider spheres. This social tendency is the source of natural law. It may be rightly ascribed to God, because it was by his will that such principles came to exist in us. Mutual society is required for the supply of our wants and for our safety. As individuals we are weak and needy; and association or subjection by mutual compact becomes neces- sary for the common defence and com- mon good. Those who had joined any community either expressly promised, or from thenatureof thecasemusizhave been understood to promise tacitly, that they would conform to that which either the majority of the community or those to whom the power was ar- signed should determine. As with individuals in communities, so with communities in the great aggregate system of communities. As a citi- zen who violates the civil law for the sake of present utility destroys that institution in which the perpetual util- itv of himself and his posterity is bound up, so a people which violates the laws of nature and of nations beats down the bulwark of its own tran- quillity for future time. There is no state so strong that it may not at some time need the aid of others. Alliances can have no force if rights are con- fined within the boundary of the in- dividual state alone. Everything loses its certainty if we give up the be- lief in ricrhts; and it is imperative that rights should be recognized in that society which includes the whole hu- man race. Such is the argument. It is not a plan for the federation of the world. 1-lugo Grotius was not Immanuel Kant. He did not clearly foresee a time when wars would cease. He quotes Demosthenes as saying that war was the mode of dealing with those who could not be kept in order by judicial proceedings. Kant saw that truth; he saw that war would never cease until a rational substitute for war was provided, and he ad- dressed his speculation to that provi- sion. Judicial proceeding was the method in the nation because the na- tion was organized. The nation was the largest thing yet organized; Kant would~ organize the world, creating a sovereignty above every national sovereignty. Grotins, not looking so far ahead as that, still conceding re- course to arms in certain cases legiti- mate because there was no other re- course, would try to keep nations from going into any war save such as the old Romans called a pure and pious war, xvith the consciousness of justice on their side; and, war being undertaken, lie would have it con- tlucted r~ligiouslv, according to those laws of war which it was one of the great purposes of his book to state. The scope of his book can best be shown in brief by the outline of the contents which lie himself gives in the introduction published in this 01d South leaflet: In the First Book (after a preface coii- cerning the origin of rights and laws) we have examined the question whether any war he just. Next, in order to distin- guish between public and private war, we have to explain the nature of sovereignty, what peoples, what kings, have it entire, what partial, who with a right of aliena- tion, xvho otherwise; and afterward we have to speak of the duty of subjects to superiors. The Second Book, undertaking to ex- pound all the causes from which war may arise examines what things are common, what are property, what is the right of per- sons over persons, what obligation arises from ownership, what is the rule of royal succession, what right is obtained by pact or contract, what is the force and interpre- tation of treaties, of oaths private and pub- lic, what is due for damage done, what is the sacredness of ambassadors, the right of burying the dead, and the nature of pun- isliments. The Third Book has for its subject, in the first place, what is lawful in war; and, when it has drawn a distinction between that which is done with impunity, or may even, in dealing with foreigners, be de EDITORS TABLE. fended as consistent with rights, and that which is really free from fault, it then de- scends to the kinds of peace and to conven- tions in war. * * * The reader will do me injustice, writes Grotius in his introduction, if he judges me to have written with a regard to any controversies of our own time, either such as already exist or such as can be foreseen as likely to arise. I profess, in all sincerity, that, as mathematicians consider their fig- ures as abstracted from body, so did I, in treating of rights, abstract my mind from every particular fact. This was undoubtedly true; and it is to be re- membered that the idea of his great work had been in the mind of Grotius from his very youth. Yet he was urged on to his work the more im- peratively, as he tells us in recounting the many and grave causes why he should write, by the deplorable condi- tion of Europe in his own time. This weighed upon his mind in his exile. The plans of his youth came back to him, deepened by a life of stern expe- rience; and his exile was redeemed and glorified by his great pioneering effort to extend the realm of law over the whole warring world. Having practised jurisprudence in public sit- uations in my country with the best integrity I could give, I would now, as what remains to me, unworthily ejected from that country graced by so many of my labors, promote the same subject, jurispudence, by the ex- ertion of my private diligence. * * We recently surveyed in these pages the notable political thought and services of Horace Bushnell. This great New England citizen was a citizen of the world, a true inter- national man. One of the most im- portant and most prophetic of his ora- tions was that upon The Growth of Law ; and its most significant pages are those in which he looks forward to the triumph of the international spirit and sees the end of wars in a rational and organized world. In these pages occurs a memorable tribute to Gro- tins, which is one of the most elo- quent passages in all of Bushnells writings. I know of nothing which better marks the high moral tone of modern history than that the sublime code of interna- tional law should have come into form and established its authority over the civilized world within so short a time; for it is now scarcely more than two hundred years since it took its being. In the most pol- ished and splendid age of Greece and Gre- cian philosophy, piracy was a lawful and even honorable occupation. Man upon the waters and the shark in them had a common right to feed on what they could subdue. Nations were considered as natu- ral enemies; and for one people to plunder another by force of arms and to lay their country waste was no moral wrong, any more than for the tiger to devour the lamb. In war no terms of humanity were binding, and the passions of the parties were mitigated by no constraints of Jaw. Captives were butchered or sold into slav- ery at pleasure. In time of peace it was not without great hazard that the citizen of one country could venture into another for purposes of travel or business. Go now with me to a little French town near Paris, and there you shall see in his quiet retreat a silent, thoughtful man, bending his ample shoulders and more ample countenance over his table, and re- cording with a visible earnestness some- thing that deeply concerns the world. This man has no office or authority to make him a lawgiver other than what be- longs to the gifts of his own person,a brilliant mind enriched by the amplest stores of learning and nerved by the high- est principles of moral justice and Chris- tian piety. He is, in fact, a fugitive and an exile from his country, separated from all power but the simple power of truth and reason. But he dares, you will see, to write De lure Belli ac Pacis. This is the man who was smuggled out of prison and out of his country, by his wife, to give law to all the nations of mankind in all future ages. On the sea and on the land, on all seas and all lands, he shall bear sway. In the silence of his study he stretches forth the sceptre of law over all potentates and peoples, defines their rights, arranges their intercourse, gives them terms of war and terms of peace, which they may not disre- gard. In the days of battle, too, when kings and kingdoms are thundering in the shock of arms, this same Hugo Grotius shall be there in all the turmoil of passion and the smoke of ruin, as a presiding throne of law commanding above the com EDITORS TABLE. 127 manders, and, when the day is cast, pre- scribing to the victor terms of mercy and justice, which not even his hatred of the foe nor the exultation of the hour may dare to transcend. * * * We have expressed regret that there is no translation of Grotiuss Rights of War and Peace published in cheap and popular form. It is also to be regretted that there is no ade- quate English book about Grotius. The French life, by M. de Burigny, which appeared in 1752, was trans- lated and published in England two years later; but this is now practically an unknown book. A biography by Charles Butler of London was pub- lished in 1826; but its presence in some of our libraries does not forbid us from repeating that we have yet no adequate life of Grotius. Here sureLy is a splendid beckoning for some young Harvard historian. Into the details of Grotiuss life the purpose of the present review does not command us to enter. The simple outlines are these: He was born at Deift, in Holland, in 1583, and ded in 1645. He was one of the greatest scholars of his time,or, indeed, of any time,and this in almost every field of the learning of the age. At the age of fifteen he was engaged in editing classical texts; and he wrote three dramas in Latin. Taking the degree of doctor of laws at Leyden, he entered upon practice as an advo- cate, and soon became advocate-gen- eral of the fisc for the provinces of Holland and Zeeland. He wrote largely on theological subjects. In 1603 the United Provinces appointed him the official historian of their strug- gle with Spain. In 1613 he was one of a deputation to the English court to adjust certain differences between the two young maritime powers. He was soon plunged into the theologi- cal controversies in Holland; and he was condemned to imprisonment at the same time that Barnevelt was con- demned to death. Escaping from prison through his wifes ingenuity, he took refuge in France, and there, in exile and poverty, composed his great work, De Jure Belli ctc Facis, the principles and plan of which had been conceived as early as 1604, when he was a youth of twenty-one. It was published in 1625. After fruitless attempts to redstablish himself in Hol- land, he accepted service under the crown of Sweden as ambassador to the court of France. He died at Ros- tock in 1645, on a return journey from Stockholm. * * * In wishing for a different edition of Whewells translation of Grotius, the warmest thanks are due to Whewell for his work, which satisfies every de- mand of the scholar. There had been published three English translations before that of Whewell, one as far back as 1682, a better one in 1738. This is a complete translation; but the great folio is consulted to-day only by book- worms. Whewells is an abridged translation. There was good reason why it should be that. One of our journals has recently been lamenting the decline of literary allusion in modern writing. Its comparison was with a century and half a century ago. A journal of either of those periods, looking back to Grotius, might have made the same lament. The degree of literary allusion with Grotius is something quite over- whelming. He can hardly make a statement without hunting up some testimony by the Greek and Roman philosophers, historians, poets, and orators, the Bible writers, the Church fathers, and the Schooolmen, along the same line, and massing it for us by way of confirmation. His book is thus a rich anthology; but the method is one which makes the movement of the argument very slow, and the ordinary modern reader, who is concerned with the books central purpose, very impatient. Whewell had sympathy with this modern reader; and in his translation the wealth of literary allusion and reinforcement is reduced to the lowest terms consistent with clearness and force. 128 EDITORS TABLE. Whewell, in his valuable preface, in xvhich the moral and political phi- losophy of Grotius is ably discussed, directs special attention to this pro- phetic word of the great thinker: It would be useful, and indeed it is almost necessary, that cer- tain congresses of Christian pow- ers should be held, in which contro- versies which arise among some of them may be decided by others who are not interested, and in which meas- ures may be taken to compel the parties to accept peace on equitable terms. Mr. White said justly, in his address at Delft: The germ of arbi- tration was planted in modern thought when Grotius, in the De Jure Belli ac Pacis, urging arbitration and mediation as preventing war, wrote these solemn words: Especially are Christian kings and states bound to try this way of avoiding war. Mr. Whites noble address closed with a high command and prophecy which he placed in the mouth of Grotius himself. From the tomb of Grotius, he said, I seem to hear a voice which says to us as the delegates of the nations: Go on with your mighty work; avoid, as von would avoid the germs of pestilence, those exhalations of international hatred which take shape in monstrous fal- lacies and morbid fictions regarding alleged antagonistic interests. Guard well the treasures of civilization with xvhich each of you is intrusted; but bear in mind that you hold a mandate from humanity. Pseudo-philosophers will prophesy malignantly against you; pessimists will laugh you to scorn; cynics will sneer at you; zealots will abuse you for what you have not done; sublimely unpractical thinkers will revile you for what you have done. Heed them not; go on with your work. Go on with the work of strengthening peace and humanizing war; give greater scope and strength to provisions which will make war less cruel; and above all give to the world at least a beginning of an effective practicable scheme of arbitration. These are the words which an Amer ican seems to hear issuin~ from this shrine to-day; and I seem also to hear from it a prophecy. I seem to hear Grotius saying to us: Fear neither opposition nor detraction. As my own 1)00k, which grew out of the Eighty Years War and the Thirty Years War, contained the gerni froiI which your great Conference has grown, so your work, which is de- manded by a world bent almost to breaking under the weight of ever-in- creasing armaments, shall be a germ from which future Conferences shall evolve plans ever fuller, better and nobler. * * * It was in 1625 that Grotius pub- lished his Rights of War and Peace. The century was just drawing to its close when William Penn published his fatuous Plan for the Peace of Europe, which great paper is also reprinted, as it is to be hoped that many of these epoch-making interna- tional documents may be, among the Old South leaflets. Another cen- tury passed on; and in 1795 came Im- manuel Kants sublime tractate on Eternal Peace. Another century passed on; Tennyson has sung of the parliament of man, and Edward Ev- erett Hale has preached a permanent international tribunal; and in 1899 we have seen, for the first time in human history, the official represe1itatives of all nations gathered to take counsel together for universal law and order. It was fitting that they should pil- grimage together to the tomb of Grotius, there to renew and deepen their consecration to the great service to which they were called. America should count it a holy honor that the voice which spoke for the delegates of the nations on that solemn occa- sion was an American voice; and looking backward to Grotius and looking forward to the ftiture xve of this new world republic shotild highly resolve to do our part, as becomes the sons of the fathers who sailed from Delfthaven, to bring in the reign of reason and to organize the world. JAMES BRYCE. See ar/ide on A merican f/is/cry and Ene,iisis Nisiorsans.

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The New England magazine. / New Series, Volume 22, Issue 2 131-254

THE NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE. NEW SERIES. APRIL, 1900. VOL. XXII. No. 2. By I. Ferry Worden. PROBABLY no country in Europe is more attractive to the average American tourist than Holland, and no town of Holland offers the student of history and familiar life more interesting annals and condi- tions than Delft. Little is known of its beginning; it may be said to have been founded in the mists of obscurity. According to Tacitus, Domitius Cor- bulo, a Roman general, in the year 48, dug a canal through the district now occupied by Delft; and this canal being called a deift, from the Dutch verb delven (to dig), gave its name to the town which afterwards arose on its banks. There was a great watch- tower on the canal, now the tower of the Oude Kerk; and like the medlieval Germanic towns which sprang up around castles, Delft grew larger and stronger about its moated citadel. In 1048 it was mentioned in the Great Chronicle of Holland; and in 1071 Godfrey the Hunchback and the Bishop of Utrecht drove Count Dider ick V from the country and dignified Delft with walls. Very likely it then took its part in the wars of the early centuries, for in i~59 Duke Albrecht, of the so-called Codfish Party, think- ing that Delft had favored too much his Hookish opponents, besieged the town for ten weeks and destroyed its walls and gates. In 1389, however, the duke graciously extended the town and dug the canal, from the Schie to the Meuse; and this gave rise to Delftshaven, or the Harbor of Delft. In 1448, Duke Philip of Bur- gundy rebuilt the walls and towers of Delft and enlarged its harbor. Thus favored, Delft became one of tbe first communities in Holland to engage in commerce with all parts of Europe. Cloth was made there in 3 DELET AND DELFT WARE. 13 DELET AND DELET WARE. the thirteenth centnry, and con- tinned a chief mannfactnre nntil King Edward III introdnced into England the secrets of the Dntch weavers, when English cloth was sold in Delft itself. With this de- cline, there arose the brewing of beer. This became important in 1450, and soon after three hnn- dred small breweries lined Delfts canals. The wealthiest and most distingnished citizens were brew- ers, and Jan Steen, the artist, is claimed to have made beer at No. 8i Koorn Markt. In 1536, when Delft began to hope for Dntch commercial precedence, fire de- stroyed three-fonrths of all the bnildings, and rendered the ma- jority of families homeless. It was, apparently, a death blow; bnt Charles V released its citizens frolm mnch of their taxation, and the town prospered so greatly that in 1572 it was declared the cleanest and handsomest town in Holland. Among the stories of this conflagration is one which says that ROUND ABOUT DELFT, in the midst of the excitement a poor woman ran to a convent and cried ont, Delft brant! (Delft bnrns!) A shaven-headed monk heard her, and poked his head ont of the window, pattering his prayers; bnt believing Delft doomed for its sins, he only ex- claimed,God be praised! With the rebnildin~ of Delft, well-to-do and fash- ionable nobles and bnrgh- ers, inclnding the Prince of Orange, removed to the town, and the fine arts, snch as painting, the mak- ing of Delft ware and ex- qnisite articles in gold and silver, began to be patron- ized. All anthorities agree that Delft was celebrated for its trim thoronghfares 3nd its neat dwellings, and for the honesty and frngal- ity of its people, who were cnltnred, polite and hospi- table, and given to works of religion and mercy; and imagination carries ns back easily to the prosper- ons days when corners of its large and stately houses gave retreat to the long- haired gallant and his satin-gowned lady, rib- DELFT AND DELET WARE. 33, boned pantofles tripped over the fasting and prayer in Leyden, which well-waxed floors, tables groaned nn- was followed by a feast, of which a der platters of blne Delft and brim participant says, We refreshed onr- mers of gold and silver, and the selves, after onr tears, with singing of mariner, sitting by the flaming fire- psalms, making joyfnl melody in onr dogs, qnaffed his dry sack and told of hearts as well as with the voice ; and adventnres in the eastern seas. Then the next day the exiles were t6wed in art and architectnre fonnd expression Dntch canal-boats from Leyden to Delftshaven. The news of their proposed ventnre had spread abroad, and Dntchmen came from miles aronnd to mingle their tears of sympathy and good wishes with the invocations and songs of the brave little band; prayer was offered, and It was abont this time that an event occnrred at Delftshaven which has linked the locality endearingly ever since to American hearts. In 1617 the Pilgrims in Leyden resolved to fonnd a new colony, and preparations were made to sail for America. There were many difficnlties in the way, and three years went by before the exiles were ready. In the mean time their agents in England had secnred the Mayflower, and they had fitted ont in Holland a smaller vessel called the Speedweli, which they anchored in Delftshaven. On Jnly 21, 1620, the Pilgrims held their memorable day of IN UJILIiT ,IiI{btI~. the Pilgrims went on board the Speedwell. The bystanders, says Winslow, accompanied them to the ship, bnt were not able to speak one to another for the abnndance of sorrow to part. Heads were nncov- ered; Robinson, with tremnlons voice, commended the Pilgrims to the Rnler of the ocean; and the Speedwell has- tened away before a strong wind to join the Mayflower at Sonthampton. This stirring chapter in the worlds history, which binds Holland, Eng- land and America so indissolnbly to- in Delft; the govern- ment was liberal and firm; and circnmstances jnstified the old rhyme: 34 DELFT AND DELFT WARE. ALONG THE CANAL. gether, recalls the work of Thomas Hooker, the English clergyman, who was three years an exile in Delft, and then crossed the stormy sea to Bos- ton, later preaching with a voice of thunder on the banks of the Connecti-- cut. Hookers influence for good is felt in New England to-day; and in the development of his life and the lives of the other Pilgrims, Delft en- larged its boundaries and touched the New World. Half a century after the revival of Delft, referred to, another disaster set back her progress. In 1654 the great magazine, containing 85,000 pounds of gunpowder, exploded, causing a terrible holocaust, and scattering about widespread destruction to prop-. erty. How many were killed has never been known; the sound, it is said, was heard even at The Helder; more than two hundred houses were entirely demolished, and there was not a building in the town that was not damaged. Delft could boast of as great a rec- ord of usefulness to the world at large CLnd to the country of which she is a part as any of her proud and flourish- ing sister cities. For patriotic ardor Deift has been second to no city in Holland. In 1299 her citizens threw a royal emis~sary from a window becanse they be- lieved him to be plotting against their liberties; and in 1573, Deift sup- plied the most volunteers to relieve Haarlem, seventy-six, with their commander, losing their lives. Dnring the siege of Leyden, Delft paid for much of the expedition, and lost severely in flood- ing her rich meadow lands, over which she sent ont the Ark of Deift and other ships to the famished sufferers. Only once Delft seems to have succumbed to tyranny without heroic resistance; that was when Napoleonwho claimed Hol- land as an alluvium of French rivers! reduced Amsterdam from 220,000 to 190,000 souls, and destroyed five hundred buildings in Haarlem. Then many citizens of Delft, unable to pay THE CITY GATE. DELFT AND DELET WARE. 35 their taxes or keep their houses in re- pair, pulled them down to the ground. Nor has Deift been wanting in her contributions to the worlds in- tellectual progress. We see this, to mention one inter- esting matter, in the old town s identification with printing. At least as early as 1477, nine years after Gutenbergs death, the first Low Ger- man Bible, trans- lated from the Vulgate, was fin- ished at Delft, and became a not un- important lever for the Reformation, being known as the Delft Bible. There are many monuments of the historic past in Delft, for the town seems to have altered little in the course of cen- turies; and the most conspicuous of these are her churches, which have long been fa- mous. Elder of these is the Oude Kerk, or Old~ Church, a Gothic pile of heavy proportions, whose dial-faced leaning tower may be seen for miles away. The origin of the piece-made structure is un- known. The tower was built in 1070, and in time a church of brick was added and dedicated to St. Bar- tholomew. For a century or two the parishioners trustingly paid their tribute to this patron; but the citi- zens, having on St. Hypolituss Day in 1396 recovered the liberties they had lost in the fierce struggles between the I-look and the Codfish parties, traded the holy St. Bartholomew for St. Hypolitus, and the latter became the patron saint of both church and town. As Bleyswyck, an old-time historian of Delft, remarks, the church is a great Colossus, and reminds us sadly of the limitations of Gothic expression in brick. It is only when taken as a whole that the architecture is credit- able, although a certain charm is given by the finely proportioned tower. Once within the Oude Kerk, disap TOMB OF WILLIAM THE SILENT. 136 pointment and vexation of spirit as- sail the lover of art who has enjoyed the splendor of developed Gothic. Ceiled over with rongh, unsightly boards, rude reminders of the six- teenth century, danbed and spattered with hideons whitewash, the interior of the great edifice is bare and cheer- less. Not a trace remains of the dec- oration made in the days of clean stone or tinted stncco, when the Oude Kerk was in charge of the Romanists. That state of warmth and cheer passed away with the righteous bnt misdi- rected outbnrst of Protestant wrath. The septic abuses of the Roman Church bronght its own destruction throughout the downtrodden Nether- lands; and while the insnrgent popu- lace elsewhere in Holland was hurling from their pedestals gilded shrines TOMB OF ADMIRAL VAN TROMP. DELET AND DELET WARE. and painted altars, the recnsant citi- zens of Delft, threatened by the bloody Inquisition, were violently re- moving from the Oude Kerk every vestige of inspiriting art adornment. Since 1566 the chnrchs interior has never beamed kindly on the stranger; and yet it is in the highest degree in- teresting. Its furnishings are novel, and within its homely walls the pious Dutchman worships his God with a sincerity scarcely equalled the world over. Especially interesting are the tombs in the Oude Kerk. Most of them are elaborate in design, and, like nearly all memorials of that period to heroes and distinguished persons, they are burdened with bombastic phraseology in lachrymose Latin. There is the tomb of Maarten Harpertzoon Tromp, the famous lieutenant ad- miral of Holland, which has the ex- quisite sculpture by De Keyser, representing Tromps last battle off the coast of Holland, July 31, 1653. The effigy of the hero is of white marble, with the head resting on draped cannon and the body stretched upon the rudder of a ship; and among the Latin sentences which tell us that Tromp was the glory of the Dutch people, the thunderbolt of war, who never lay down in his life and who showed that a commander should die stand- ing, there is the following inscrip- tion: URBS PHEEBE CINERES JAcTAT, SED CTJRRUS HONORES, INGREDITUR QUOTIES EGREDITURQUE MART, which may be translated, The town of Phcebus* boasts of his ashes, but his car spreads his praise, as often as it enters and leaves the sea. A few paces from Tromps tomb is the monument to Elisabeth van Marnix, the daughter of the poet- * A Latin pun. Delphi, celebrated fur the oracle of Phrcbus (Apollo), was called the town of Phrebus, and in the Middle Ages Deift was known in Latin as Del$ki Ba/avorum. For a revision of my translation of the Latin texts I am indebted to my friend, Dr. Nelson G. Mccrea, of columbia University, New York. DELET AND DELET WARE. 37 patriot and friend of the Prince of Orange, a most generous lady, the best and pnrest of wives, the most loving ~nd dearest of mothers ; and near by is the memorial to Piet Rein, whose name is said to have silenced children crying in their cradles! The form of the plPcky~ seaman lies at full length on a well-finished mattress, the whole carved from one piece of white marble; and above, in brilliant letters of gold, on a slab of black marble, is a Latin and Greek inscription which has a special interest per- haps for Americans, since their recent misnnder- standing with Spain. Translated, the legend runs thus: 11-11 VUiiJKY1HI i{t(iiViIUIN 1{UUIVI. In honor of God Almighty and for an brought him death, whose death gained eternal memorial. Mourn, United Nether- forf him life. Born at Delftshaven in the lands, for the loss of the deceased, whose North, he spread the fame of his native glorious services to the republic will not country in both parts of the world by allow him to be mortal. Here lie the re- bringing home rich booty from the harbor mains of Admiral Piet Hem, a name fatal of Matanzas in the West. Raised above to the ]3razils, the Mexican Sea, the Portu- his humble origin by his nobleness of mind guese and the Flemings, whose valor and the fame of his exploits, he showed that heroes are not always born, but also made by bold adventures. By Gods help he sur- m o u n t e d insur- mountable trials on land and on sea, and India, Spain and Flanders, once wit- nsses of his captiv- ity, were soon wit- nesses of his liberty and his victories. Intrepid without temerity, magnani- mous without arro- gance, tenacious of m o r a 1 discipline even to the point of severity, he proved himself as well fitted to command as he had previously shown himself prompt to obey. In the year 1624, when THE GREAT OvEN. DELET AND DELFT WARE. he was vice-admiral, he conquered St. Salvador in the Brazils, taking it from the Portuguese, and was among the first who ascended the walls. In the year 1627, being then in command of the fleet, he captured twenty-six ships of the enemy under the walls of the same town, in a brilliant engagement. These he plundered and burnt, while three others, which with almost incredible daring he had attacked near the island of Marea, he carried off as prizes before the very eyes of the enemy. poverty, for his country strength, and for himself immortal glory. At last, after gaining at home the rank of commander- in-chief, earned in foreign seas, in a naval battle against the Flemings, when al- ready victorious over the ships of the enemy after a bloody fight, he was struck by a bullet, and so ended his life without fear in the most glorious manner. The Board of Admiralty, in accordance with the decree of the high and mighty states, has erected this memorial of his fame and valor. He lived fifty-one years, six months and twenty-three days. It is not shameful to die, but to die shamefully! One more monument should be mentioned that to Leeuwenhoek, the famous naturalist, who in- vented the microscope. Under a wreathed skull is a bust profile of the scien- tist, in white marble, with a somewhat excruciating countenance, as if the illus- trious uitvinder had squinted too long and too hard through his lens- loaded tube. But Leenwen- hoek did great things for himself and for Delft; and following the appreciative Latin epitaph is one in Middle Dutch, including the verse: Tot Den Leeser Heeft Elk 0 Wandelaer Alom Ont Zagh Voor Hoogen On- derdom En Wonder Bare Gaven Soo Set Eerbiedigh her Uw Stap her Legt De gryse Weeten- schap In Leeuwenhoek Begraven; DESIGNERS AT WORK. In the year 1628 he met off the coast of which may be translated, rather re- Cuba a fleet* of twenty ships laden with rdless of th gold, silver and the richest wares. This ga e metre, as follows: fortunate encounter resulted in a yet more fortunate victory, and like a modern Argonaut, he achieved the unique distinc- tion of bringing home from the new Col- chis of the New World, not for Greece but for the United Netherlands, the Golden Fleece of the King of the Spains, object of dread to the princes of Europe. Thus did he procure for the West India Com- pany immense riches, for the Spaniard *The Spanish silver fleet. To the Reader: Since each one, Pilgrim, everywhere Respect for old age has, with care On wondrous gifts doth look, So here your step respectful stay: Here lies the Sage of Science gray Entombed in Leeuwenhoek. I have said that the tower of the DELET AND DELET WARE. 39 Oude Kerk was built cen- turies before the main pa--t of the church; and this is seen in its leaning over the canal. Though the ac- cident is probably due to the sinking of the ground beneath, the cause of the leaning was unknown even in the sixteenth century, and architects of that time were convinced that it had been built so purposely, to make it curiouslike the tower of Pisa! Historically there is much of interest associated with this huge old tower. Perhaps the most important single event was the imprison- ment here and the torture -for several days of Bal- thazar-Gerard, the as~assin of the Prince of Orange. When Gerard was~ cap- tured he was taken to a little cell still preserved far up, in the tower, but not shown to- the public; and from there, three days after IIOULDERS. the murder, he was led out to the mar- those troublous times, and there exe- ket place, in front of the City Hall, cuted. The sentence has scarcely which looks to-day much as it did in been equalled for severity in the an- nals of history; its details are too horrible to de- scribe. Yet until consciousness de- serted him, the religious maniac braved the ordeal with ribaldry and laughter. Just across the street from the Oude Kerk, on the Oude Delft, or Old Canal, is the Prinsenhof, the home of the Prince of Or- ange, which had been given him GLAZING, in 1583, as an ex 140 DELFT AND DELFT WARE. pression of confidence, by the States General. Although Orange removed to Deift in that year, it was not his first identification with the old town. The siege of Leyden presented a crisis for the patriots, which the prince met by cutting the dikes between Rotterdam and Delft; and he himself stood out in the rain and fog until stricken down by a dangerous fever. He recovered, however, and proposed to the States the adoption of a sovereign protector; but curiously enough, Delft doubted the wisdom of the venture, and Orange, becoming discouraged, is said to have planned to emigrate to America and found a new republic there,as the Pilgrims did half a cen- tury later. The Union of Delft, how- ever, was signed April 25, 1576, be- coming the foundation instrument of the United Nether- lands; and Wil- liam the Silent came to Delft to live anddie. Every one knows the story of his tragic endhow the king of Spain put a price on his head, and a fanatic, lured by the kings gold and the priests promises of pardon and re- ward, came to Delft, ingratiated himself with the prince, and shot him as he was coming out of his dining hall. For a long time the Prinsenhof w a s strangely neglect- ed, being used only as a barrack for soldiers; but in 1883 a movement of thirty years for the rescue of the building was crowned with suc- cess, and the government set the building aside as a permanent mu- seum. Now the place is as spick and span as a Dutch kitchen, and a little tablet on the wall says: Here under are the marks of the bul- lets with which Prince William of Orange was fatally shot on July io, 1584. Not far from the Prinsenhof, and beyond the Fishmarket,which looks to-day as it is pictured in engravings of 1567,is the great, brick paved Mar- ket Place, generally kept scrubbed and clean, but once a year taken pos- session of by the merry-go-rounds, the pancake restaurants, the venders of American popcorn, the hurdy- gurdies and the fat women of the wan- dering kermis. In the centre of the square is a mod- DECORATOR5 AT WORK. DELFT AND DELET WARE. 141 em statue to Grotius, reminding us that the theologian, jurist and philoso- pher was born here. In its long and eventful history, Delft has been asso- ciated with many illustrious lives, but none, perhaps, should it honor more than that of Hugo de Groot. At nine years of age he wrote verses in Latin, and at eleven he indited odes in ~i- cient Greek. In the same year he en- tered the University of Leyden, at fifteen he aeco.mpanied Olden Barne- veld to Paris, and at sixteen he was a Doctor of Laws, practising before the Supreme Court of H~lland. Hitherto the star of Grotius had been contin- ually rising; but theology came upon the scene to change his fortune. He became a victim of the controversy between the Arminians and the Synod of Dort; and when Barneveld was put to death, Grotius was sentenced to imprisonment for life in Loevestein Castle. Prince Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was largely instru- mental in securing Grotiuss convic- tion, and had him confined behind thirteen ponderous locks; but the philosophers plucky little wife man- aged to stuff him into a chest sup- posed to be filled with old theological texts, and he escaped from the fortress and made his way to Paris. When he died he was buried in the Nienwe Kerk, in Delft, almost besides Prince Maurice, his persecutor. Hugo de Groot was not only greathe was great and good; his nature was lofty and noble, his learning more than bookish, and his sympathies for hu- manity flowed to every clime. No better witness of this should be needed than his defence of the North Ameri- can Indian, whom he describes as a descendant of the Northmen, the dis- coverers of America. The sky-scraping Nienwe Kerk, or New Church, built in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and several times partly destroyed by fire, may be regarded as the finest church in Delft, though architecturally as much of a monstrosity perhaps as the Oude Kerk, its predecessor. Two features, however, have long made it famous and are likely to continue to draw the A DECORATING ROOM. 142 DELET AND DELET WARE. traveller to its portals. Its steeple Italian marble, lying at full length contains a chime made in 1663 by Jan on a royal robe. At the pa- Cal, the snpposed inventor of anto- triots feet is his dog,almost as matic brass chimes; and to-day, as famous a companion as the dog of through hundreds of years of sadness Scott,which saved his master from and joy, this exquisite chime, second assassination at Hermigny, and which only to those of l3ruges in the Nether- after William the Silents death re- lands, plays automatically each qnar- fused to take any food. There are ter of an hour, and is played npon by snrronnding figures representing Jus- order of the town fathers dnring tice, Religion, Liberty and Valor; at the bnsy honrs of market days, when the square below is black with people and wares. A greater attraction in the church is the tomb of William the Silent and the royal family of Hol- land. When the Prince of Orange was assassinated an imposing state funeral was held, and he was in- terred in the Nienwe Kerk, of y\Thich he was a member. The States General soon after commis- sioned De Keyser to design a na- tional monument; and this, the most elaborate sculpturing in Hol- land, was finished in 1619. Renais- sance in style, it is too magnificent and pretentious for the plain church. It includes the figure of the beloved prince, carved of white DELFT WARE. DELET AND DELET WARE. 43 the head of the recumbent marble fig- ure is another effigy of the prince, in metal, full length and bareheaded, in full armor, in a sitting posture; and at the foot of the recumbent figure is the chief object of artistic excel- lence in the whole monument. This is the metal statue of Fame, with outstretched wings and trumpets, which rests on the toes of the left foot; and which, because of its singular posture and great weight about two and a half tonshas re- peatedly fallen down, causing great expense to the state. Above these figures is ~a short but eulo- gistic Latin epi- taph. After the burial of the Prince of Orange in the Nieuwe Kerk, the church became the last resting place for nearly all the subsequent mem- bers of the royal family of Holland. Queen Sophia, the patron of Motley, was buried there in I877, and her hus- band, King Wil- liam III, the father of the present young queen, in 1890. Queen Wil- helmina, however, did not visit the royal tomb until October, 1898, after she was enthroned. One other monument of the great- ness of Delft remains to be described the plain, two-story old building by the side of the Oost Einde Canal, which, though altogether unpreten- tious, is famed throughout the civil- ized world. This is the Pottery of the Porcelain Bottle, the only manufac tory to-day for the making of genuine Delft ware, whose half faded sign, In de Porceleyne Fles1672, idly swinging in the breeze and recalling the most brilliant of all chapters in the annals of Delft, may have linked Longfellow to the living past when he wrote: What land is this? Yop pretty town Is Deift, with all its wares displayed; The pride, the market place, the crown And centre of the pot- ters trade. See! every house and room is bright With glimmers of re- flected light From plates that on the dresser shine; Flagons to foam with Flemish beer, Or sparkle with the Rhenish wine, And pilgrim flasks with Ileurs-de-lis And ships upon a rolling sea, And tankards pewter- topped, and queer With comic mask and musketeer! Each hospitable chim- ney smiles A welcome from its painted tiles; The parlor walls, the chamber floors, The stairways and the corridors, The borders of the garden walks, Are beautiful with fadeless flowers, That never droop in winds or showers, And never wither on their stalks. Exactly when the art of making faience was intro- duced into Delft can- not be stated. By many it is supposed to have been established here as early as the advent of the Prince of Orange; and n6t a few careless writers on ceramics have declared that it found its way into Delft in the first quarter of the fourteenth century! I think that I shall be able to show, however, 44 DELET AND DELET WARE. in my forthcoming book on the sub- ject, that from official documents it is impossible to believe that the trade was carried on there earlier than 1596, and unlikely that any potters had set up their trade in Delft earlier than i6oo. I think I shall show also that Delft ware most closely resembles the majolica known to have been made in various Italian towns for the preceding two centuries, and that it is highly probable that the pro- cess was transferred from Italy to Delft, and not from Japan to Hol- land. This occurred, too, at a time when the Dutch were laying the foundations of their trade with the Orient, and when Japanese porce- [ains were becoming known to them; and the clever Dutchmen, discovering in Italy the means of making a ware like that of the Mongolians, began copying the models and designs of their East- ern customers. In this way the Dutchmen, with their East India Company, were among the first to introduce Japanese and Chinese art to the civilized world. From almoK the beginning of its manufacture Delft ware was popular; and by the middle of the ~seventeenth century the demand for it was enormous. Then six- teen or eighteen potteries had been established; the masters, Pynacker, Fictoor, Van Eenhorn and others, made Delft on a large scale; and it was reaching its highest degree of perfection. William III of Orange, king of England, strove to obtain the latest and most elaborate DELFT TILES. DELFT AND DELFT WARE. 145 specimens of the potters skill, and through the example of his love for it Delft ware became one of the objects of art most treasured at the leading courts of Europe. New factories arose, until in all about thirty were established within the walls of Delft. All competitors in other towns were quickly suppressed by the local guilds; and for over two hundred and fifty years the making of hand-painted earthen ware became the one special industry of the town. But though the potters guild of Deift invoked the mighty arm of the law to the destruction of all who set up their kilus in Holland, they were powerless at last to stem the tides of trade reaction. During the reign of King William in England a number of Delft potters crossed the channel to Staffordshire and founded competing potteries there. The very successes of the Delft potters, too, became their ruin; the market was glutted with their products, and there ceased to be the same demand for it as formerly. A commercial period and artistic de- cay ensued; and English ware, made of better clay and more cheaply, gradually supplanted the Dutch ware, even in Holland. As early as i 760 the struggle for existence was keenly felt among the Delft potteries; and of the thirty which existed in the begin- ning of the century but eight were working in i8o8, and most of these soon after stopped. One pottery alone continued un- broken its traditions of centuriesthe Pottery of the Porcelain Bottle. This began to make white and printed ware after the English style, at the same time turning out a small quantity of blue painted ware after the Dutch fashion; and so it struggled on till the year 1876. Then, one dayeventful indeed in its historyit was visited by a man whose mission was to wake it from its slumbers, to open its long barricaded doors and windows, and to bring back something of its old time bustling activity. That man was Joost Thooft, a Dutch civil engineer of highly cultivated and artistic tastes, who made the discovery that there was still in the employ of the pottery an old man named Tulk, who had en- tered the manufactory as a boy, and who alone of all those who worked at the potters bench had brought with him from the silent past the knowl- edge of the technique of fafence paint- ing, some understanding of that art which had been generally considered lost. Mijnheer Thooft set to work at once to restore the Delft ware art on the lines laid down by the old masters and having purchased the pottery, and being encouraged by the king of Hol- land, he so far and so rapidly suc- ceeded that he obtained a mention hon- orable at the Paris Exposition of 1878. In a few years he had raised one-third of the output of his pottery to such an art standard that Delft ware was sold again in all the chief studios of the world. But, alas! just as he began to see his hopes realized, he died,a patron of the arts in the noblest sense of the word. In 1889 Delft ware was honored with a gold medal at the Paris Expo- sition; and at the Chicago Exhibition the highest award was given to the fafence of Delft. Since then Delft ware has attained to its fullest devel- opment, and the famous old pottery has recently begun to turn out a radi- cally different product, Jacoba ware, a new form of art, highly decorative in its character, and of unlimited pos- sibilities. Americans, partly because of their traditional associations with Holland, and partly because of their interest in the country as it is to-day, have long been among the best pa- trons of Delft ware, and some of the choicest specimens of the art have found their way directly from the pot- tery to American homes. The vast quantities of German and Dutch imi- tation wares have for a couple of years turned the tide of its popularity with the masses in America; but among patrons of high art, genuine Delft ware has always held its own. The well-to-do English particularly 146 DELET AND DELET WARE. have been fond of building special houses or parts of mansions in which mantels, panels or whole walls and ceilings, designed to order in Deift, have become permanent fixtures; and this example has been followed this last summer by Mr. and Mrs. George Gould of New York, who visited the Delft pottery repeatedly while cruis- ing along the coast of Holland, and gave extensive orders for elaborate original panels to decorate. their yacht and homes. The first apartment one enters in visiting the pottery is the reception room which is still shown to the be- sieging Americans. Nearly all the cabinets of this room are filled with the large collection of old Delft pre- sented to Messrs. Joost Thooft and Labouchere by King William III in 1887, as a token of his interest in their endeavors to revive the national art. Adjoining this reception room is the show room of the pottery, a well equipped museum on a small scale. This is a pleasing introduction to the technical study. Quaintly shaped plaques, exquisitely outlined vases and pitchers, delicately painted tiles and oddly formed clocks, all the crea- tions of the gifted Le Comteper- haps the greatest authority on Dutch decorative artstand or hang about in endless profusion; and at a glance one sees that now, as in days gone, genuine Delft ware is remarkable for the immense variety of its recherch~ patterns. These, however, are quite different in their character from the designs which captivated the world two centuries ago. Then in Delft ware there was no kind of decoration, either upon Oriental and European porcelain or any other class of ware, that was not copied or devel- oped; but to-day, in the Pottery of the Porcelain Bottle, not an article is turned out that is not as original in all its treatment as the conditions of the subject will permit. Chinese and Japanese models no longer have sway; old Delft is imitated, but not servilely copied; useful and orna mental objects are introduced regard- less of any tradition save that they are purely Dutch; and Dutch pictorial art, old and modern, finds here a worthy representation. Nearly all the ornamental and useful articles which I saw, such as vases, pitchers, clocks, jczrdini~res and butter dishes, were decorated in part with some familiar landscape of Holland; While the plaques and tiles generallysome of very large and prepossessing propor- tionscarried very faithful copies of Dutch masterpieces of the various schools, Rembrandt, Wouwerman, Hals, Ruijsdael and Ver Meer appear- ing side by side with Israels, Mesdag, Artz, Blommers and Springer. As I stood admiring these treasures, painted for the most part in dark, rich blue, but often produced in sympathetic browns and harmonizing polychromes, all asserting themselves proudly in comparison with their indescribable rivals, the new Jacoba ware, I turned over one of the tiles to observe the potterys trade-mark. This is too little known in A.merica, and to my per- sonal knowledge many Americans each year buy more or less expensive articles of imitation ware because they are unable to tell the genuine Delft ware. The mark is a bottle, illustrat- ing the old time name of the famous works, and underneath this is a mono- gram of the letters J. T.for Joost Ihooftand the name Delft, in a cu- rious script, beginning with a D al- most like the small Greek letter d en- larged, the whole appearing as fol- lows: ~29ee~ It seemed strant~e that this emblem should be found so seldom on the ware offered as Delft in America and England; but genuine Delft, as a work of real art, can never be made DELET AND DELET WARE. 47 with speed in quantities sufficient both to meet the demands of tourists in Holland and to find a proper represen- tation abroad. Although there are a thousand and one special devices used only in the Pottery of the Porcelain Bottle where they make even their own paint brushes, partly from the bristles from pigs ears !and guarded with the greatest care from the public, the processes generally are the same as seen in such fan-ious potteries as those at Limoges and the Rookwood, and mention need be made of only two or three departments. After the clays have been thoroughly worked to- gether, to refine them and to exclude all air, the composite clay is brought to be turned. I stopped for a moment by the side of a master turner, who seemed proud of his craft, though per- haps it showed no appreciable ad- vance in technique over that exer- cised by the potters of Egypt before the Pyramids were built. He caught up a handful of soft clay, and threw it carelessly upon the centre of a disc, which he called his potters wheel. This disc was attached to the upper end of an axle, which was turned by the foot on a tread below. With a few sudden thrusts of his foot, he put the disc in rapid motion, causing the lump of clay to whirl dizzily around; and as it spun about, the potter laid his finger at the base and moved it carelessly upwards along the side. Behold the changes! The flaccid clay seemed to have taken to itself a buttressed base and to have swollen a little with pride. The potter laid his thumb on the top, and passed his forefinger toward the centre; the clay yawned and assumed the form of a thick-walled cylinder. Once again the potter tapped the side gently, and stroi~ed it with the palm of his hand. The walls rose higher and became thinner; and only the re- application of the thumb was required to cause them to curl and overlap in graceful lines at the top. The miracle was wrought; the masterpiece was ready. What before was a meaning- less mass of earth and water became in a twinkling a thing of beauty. The Delft ware vase was finished! When the biscuit is properly dried, the artists, who are trained only in the pottery and from youth, paint directly upon it,but not in blue. The pigment is really of a sepia tone, which changes in the baking. Once painted, the beautiful plaque is re- moved to the glazing room, where it is thrust into a milky bath, and, pres- to! the picture has disappeared alto- gether; nor is it seen again until the plaque is removed from the baking ovens. Although the building of the Pot- tery of the Porcelain Bottle is so old that needed extensions are impossi- ble, each artist has ample room and time for his work, and some of the stu- dios are equal to the best of those used by masters in similar fields else- where. The most interesting, per- haps, are those of A. Le Comte, who designs the new patterns for the pot- tery, and whose latest triumph is the curious Jacoba ware, named after the Dutch Joan of Arc, Jacoba van Bay- em, who is reputect to have made pot- tery near Delft, while in retirement in a convent. This Jacoba ware was in- troduced for the first time into Amer- ica last year. Another studio of great interest is that of Louis Senf, who painted Van der Helsts Schutters- maaltijd on four hundred tiles as a gift from the government of Holland to the German emperor, to commem- orate his visit to Holland in 18Q1. Senfs monogram already has its art value; and Americans in particular have vied with the Dutch government. in keeping him busy on special orders. Several of the illustrations for this article are from Seuf. AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. By Edward Mortimer Chapman. EW places are richer in interest to the his- torically intelligent American than the gallery of the House of Commons. The floor upon which he looks down is the arena whereon some of the greatest questions that concern civil and reli- gious liberty havebeen debated and set- tled. His history, as well as that of England, has been made there. Of course he does not forget the vicissi- tudes through which thechamberitself has passed; but despite the great fire of 1834 and the creative genius of Sir Charles Barry, the chair he sees be- fore him still seems to be that in which Onslow sat, and the benches of the Opposition those from which Burke declaimed. Little that has taken place here can ever seem entirely foreign to him; and in the events of the thirty years from 1754 to 1784 he has a pe- culiar and almost a prescripjive inter- est. It was then that Pitt and his col- leagues freed the American colonies from the fear of French domination; and it was then too that the stubborn- ness of Grenville, the irresponsible folly of Townshend, the utterly selfish prejudice of the Bedford henchmen and the fatuous good nature of Lord North made American independence not merely possible, butEnglish- men being what they were on both sides of the seapractically inevi- table. A year or two ago the spectator in the gallery might have seen in any moderately full house three notable commentators upon the history of these years. Two of them were to be found upon the Opposition benches where the avowed friends of the col- onies so often sat. The third claimed a place on the ministerial side of the House but below the gangway, as be- came one whose allegiance to the party in power was qualified and con- ditioned upon its good behavior. As an historian in the purely aca- demic sense it is to this third member of Parliament that we must accord first place among the three. The House holds no man to-day who is worthier to sit in the seat that Gibbon occupied a century and a quarter ago than Mr. W. E. H. Lecky. It is only as historians, however, that the txvo can be compared. No contrast could be greater than that between the chronicler of the Decline and Fall and the author of England in the Eighteenth Century, as respects the outward man. It is the contrast be- tween the Epicurean and the Stoic, between the England of Horace Wal- pole and the England of Herbert Spencer. The two seem somehow to be incommensurable with the incom- mensurability of the Indulgent Uncle and the Maiden Aunt. Eminent re- spectability and a considerable con- sciousness of it is writ large on every feature of Mr. Leckys rugged face. As he sits in his place, softly stroking his silk hat while the debate drags its slow length along, the onlooker feels a comfortable assurance that the British Matron can never withhold her taxes as America was fain to do on the ground of lack of representation. There is something almost lugubrious in the regard which Mr. Lecky seems to cast on men and events. He in- stinctively reminds us of one of his own infrequent verses, which sums up lifes tragedy in the apostrophe: How hard to die, how blessed to be dead! It is not to be inferred, however, that Mr. Lecky is a confirmed pessi 148 AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. 49 mist, or that generous sentiments and brave deeds fail to appeal to him. But his attitude toward history and politics is of a sort to put him out of sympathy with the modern trend of things, especially as that is illustrated by the growth of democracy during the last century. He has told us that his object in writing The History of England in the Eighteenth Century was to disengage from the great mass of facts those which relate to the per- manent forces of the nation, or which indicate some of the more enduring features of national life. Hence he has occupied himself with the growth or decline of the monarchy, the aris- tocracy and the d~mocracy, of the Church and of Dissent, of the agricul- tural, the manufacturing and the com- mercial interests; the increasing power of Parliament and of the press; the influences that have modified na- tional character; the relations of the mother country to its dependencies . . etc. It is a task which he has accom- plished with conspicuous ability. He has brought to it an erudition that re- news the surprise which the world of scholars felt when, as a young man of seven and twenty, he published his History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe.~~ Any one who has investigated the wealth of his footnotes and followed some of them into the by-paths of curious literature, must bear glad wit- ness to the keenness of his historic sense. His manifest purpose to be fair is worthy of all praise. Between the lines of his work we can seem to read something of his desire to cultivate an attitude of detachment and to regard his material as objectively as Maupas- sant or Henry James regards the ma- terial of fiction. It would probably be unjust to say that he has formed him- self upon German models; but his kin- ship with the academic German is manifest enough, and it was a part of the eternal fitness of things that Dr. jolowicz should translate all his prin- cipal works and that the History of European Morals should become a text-book in German universities. By conviction Mr. Lecky appears to be a Liberal driven by a reasonably strenuous conscience to devise liberal things; but it is scarcely less evident that by inclination he is conservative, not to say reactionary. When incli- nation and conviction clash in the ex- perience of a man of his type, convic- tion generally has to have its way. But as the natural conservatism of age superadds its influence to the voice of inclination, conviction is tem- pered and accommodated to what ap- pear to be new conditions. It would be very unfair to say that such ac- commodation has taken place in the case of Mr. Lecky as an historian, whatever we may be forced to think of his career as a politician. But no one can read the chapters of Eng- land in the Eighteenth Century which deal with American affairs witW out a sense of Mr. Leckys satisfac- tion that his obligation to be just carries with it no corresponding ob- ligation to be generous. He will do the colonists justicerigid, exact, un- impassioned justice; but it is a pity that it has to be done. Let it be ad- mitted that it is by far the most en- lightened and intelligent justice ever done by an English historian of Mr. Leckys general temper. The reader need look no further than between the covers of Masseys bulky volumes to (liscover that. But none the less, when this justice involves Americas acquittal it is done with a grim de- termination that contrasts somewhat painfully with the complaisant fashion in which condemnation is dealt out. No doubt this is for the good of our souls, and we do not murmur. Indeed in view of the miserable exaggeration that has until lately characterized most American text-books dealing with the Revolutionary period, and from which even Bancrofts pages are by no means free, we need not wonder at it. Until American writers can exchange the Bancroft for the Hildreth manner, we can scarce expect Englishmen to 150 AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. be sympathetic, and should be duly thankful when they make conscien- tious effort to be just. Had statesmen as eminent as Mr. Gladstone and Sir George Cornewall Lewis, or econ- omists as generally clear-sighted as Walter Bagehot, seen fit to take a tithe of Mr. Leckys pains to under- stand American affairs, the history of Anglo-American relations during the past generation might well be far pleasanter reading than it is. Hexvould be a very captious Amer- ican, therefore, who would quarrel with Mr. Lecky merely for his refer- ences to the contagion of New Eng- land republicanism~~ and his gratitude that it was not permitted to infect Canada; or for his attempt on rather flimsy evidence to show that the New England missionaries to the Indians were active in stirring up the savages to attack the British; or even for the emphasis which he lays upon what he deems to have been a lack of heroism among the Americans and the self- seeking which made it difficult for Washington to keep a really effective body of men under arms before Bos- ton during the autumn and winter of 1775-76. He honestly tries to be gen- erous in his appreciation of the fair- ness and humanity which marked the trial of Preston and his men after the Boston Massacre; but he fails, in so far as he wonders at the magnanimity of Adams in consenting to serve as counsel for the defence, and seems quite unable to understand how it came about that, after such an act on his part, he should ever have been in- trusted with public office again. At the same time he brings forward irre- proachable testimony to shoxv that the acquittal of Preston and his soldiers was generally approved by the people. The day in which Mr. Lecky wrote, though but day before yesterday as it were, was still too early for even the most intelligent and best informed of Englishmen to observe the distinction between the noisy and irresponsible politicians, with their rabble of hench- men, and the mass of sober and con- servative citizens, men who vnade up their minds slowly and who spoke only after mature deliberation, but whom the world was bound to heed. The former might make their tea in Boston Harbor and mob the officers of the Crown; but it was the latter at whose bidding the revolt became a revolution and the scattered 6olonies with their divergent interests a nation. Until the resignation of the latter, in 1897, the second and third of this trio of British legislators who have dealt xvith American institutions and their history might have been found seated side by side on the front Opposition bench. No Englishman has perhaps ever deserved better of America than Mr. James Bryce; and none has ever accorded to an episode in American history a more brilliant or sympathetic treatment than Sir George Otto Trevelyan, in his recently published American Revolution. Although admirably fitted in respect of training and temper to deal with American history, Mr. Bryce has chosen to oc- cupy himself with a des~ription and exposition of American institutions. Thus, instead of undertaking to chronicle the events of the fateful years to which Mr. Lecky and Sir George Trevelyan have devoted them- selves, he has supplied the most lu- minous of commentaries upon them in his treatise upon the government and people which they made possible. When Mr. Bryce published his Holy Roman Empire, more than five and thirty years ago, he found a considerable public perfectly familiar with his title, but almost totally ig- norant of the titles meaning. The Holy Roman Empire was a great name to the world at large, and little more. Mr. Bryce defined its character as an institution, sketched the vicissi- tudes of its history, and indicated its significance to the progress of civili- zation, all within the compass of a very moderate volume. Admirable as the book was in respect of style, and competent as its authors learning AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. 5 proved, its chief charm to many of its readers lay in its perfect intelligibility. These characteristics of The Holy Roman Empire distinguish in even higher degree The American Com- monwealth. Mr. Bryce has himself noted what he calls the inaptness of the questions which Englishmen who are highly intelligent and well in- formed in respect of a multitude of other matters are prone to ask of a fellow-countryman who has travelled in America. The American in Eng- land is almost bewildered by this ex- perience. He finds himself wonder- ing whether there can be any other subject upon which Englishmen are at once so widely and profoundly igno- rant as upon the character of Amer- ican life, the quality of American ideals, and the practical working of American institutions. This misin- formation is often so grotesque as to defy correction. Many an American has struggled to keep a sober coun- tenance in face of the dreadful jargon so often addressed to him by English acquaintances with the qualification, as you say in America. It must be admitted that a considerable class may be found in America Who regard every claimant to English birth and breed- ing as an impostor unless he misplaces his aspirates; but they are not the class whom the English traveller is likely to encounter, nor do they in any way correspond in general intelligence or experience of the world to the Eng- lishmen of whom I speak. Indeed in out of the way corners of Devon I have overheard scraps of conversation upon American matters among the occupants of the back seats upon a coach-top, couched too in good Devon vernacular, that seemed to be quite. as intelligent as the corresponding talk in first-class railway carriages, the best hotels, or even in private drawing rooms. Americans used to ask whether it were possible that this in- cubus of misapprehension could ever be lifted from the intercourse of the two peoples. The men of faith among them agreed that Twas a credible feat With the right man and way. The man and the way met when The American Commonwealth was projected and written. Its author has reminded us of Aristotl~s remark that the first step in investigation is to ask the right questions. The truth of that dictum never received more cogent illustration than in Mr. Bryces own case. His ability to ask intelligent and discriminating questions is likely to become proverbial in America. No man who has ever visited her shores has seemed to be more highly gifted in the art of seeing things as they are, or has manifested a truer sense of per- spective. In his search for the essen- tial Mr. Bryce rarely permits himself to be baffled by the accidental. Hence it is possible for him to be at once ju- dicial and sympathetic in his temper. Americans had grown so accustomed to a very different kind of treatment of themselves and their country from their English cousins that it was with a shock of surprise that they greeted Mr. Bryces advent as a critic of American institutions and affairs. Here was a man at last who refused to trust to first impressions. He had that capacity for taking infinite pains that is close akin to genius. Instead of a hurried visit to our principal towns and a glimpse at our rural districts from the window of a railway car, Mr. l3ryce set about what may be called the deliberate experience of America. His first visit antedated by nearly a score of years the publication of his conclusions. Subsequent travels car- ried him into all the states and terri- tories. He saw the people at home, not merely in the larger centres of population and industry, but in out of the way communities, in country vil- lages and lonely farmsteads. No American can be indifferent to the sense of verisimilitude that comes with the reading of those chapters in the second volume which deal with the life of the people. Nor is this the re- sult of a judicious array of scattered 152 AMER[CAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. experiences for the sake of effect. Mr. Bryces conclusions are too sane and just to make such suspicion possible. The woman who chanced to enter the news shop of a little Oregon village in search of the latest fashion plates, while he was waiting there, does not fail to impress him with the signifi- cance of her errand. And the college professor denounced by the politician as unpractical, visionary, pharisaical, kidgloved and unAmerican~~ is just as discriminately and un- erringly interpreted. The former sug- gests the caution that every observer of men and things in America must practise, when tempted to measure the social status and influence of those whom he meets by their general ap- pearance and manner of dress; and the bitterness of the politicians de- nunciation appears to him in its trtie light as affected scorn trying to dis- guise real fear. No previous commentator upon American life and affairs has ap- proached Mr. Bryce in his competent acquaintance with those facts upon which generalization must be based, nor in the caution with which his inferences have been drawn. It is this combination of qualities and acquirements that makes his authority unique; and it is to be desired that the process of mingled addition and elim- ination whereby his final conclusions have been reached should be better known. When I first visited America eighteen years ago, he says, I brought home a swarm of broad generalizations. Half of them were thrown overboard after a sec- ond visit, in i88i. Of the half that re- mained some were dropped into the Atlan- tic when I returned across it after a third visit, in 1883-84; and although the two later journeys gave birth to some new views, these views are fewer and more discreetly cautious than their departed sisters of i87o.Arn. Corn., I, p. 4. How Captain Basil Hall and Mrs. Trollope would have scoffed at such scrupulosity! But Mr. Bryce might have toiled never so carefully after the facts, he might have generalized upon his fund of honest knowledge with the most heroic determination to be fair, and still have missed the position of genuine authority upon things Amer- ican which he now holds, had it not been for the quickness of sympathy xAThich has led him to understand America as no other Englishmau of his generation has seemed able to do. He has developed a genius for what I may venture to call the application of the personal equation to his conclu- sions. In a very extraordinary degree he succeeds in attaining the stand- point of those concerning whom he writes. Nowhere is this more happily evident than when he deals with those texts whereon friendly critics burst to preach, the exuberance of Amer- ican energy, the almost brutal frank- ness with which opinion is uttered, and the grotesque, not to say bizarre, fashion in which popular enthusiasm sometimes finds expression. Nothing, for instance, could be conceived in better style and temper than his chap- ter upon a Presidential Nominating Convention at work, with its stam- pedes, its dark horses, and its fa- vorite sons. He is impressed, as every onlooker must be, by the ap- parent excitability of the great assem- blage of delegates, the thunder of the captains and the shouting; but he discerns at the same time, with a clear- ness of vision that Americans them- selves cannot always command, the underlying sense of order that pre- vents such a meeting from degener- ating into a mob. The Convention, he says, presents in sharp contrast and frequent alternation, the two most striking features of Ameri- cans in publictheir orderliness and their excitability. Everything is done according to strict rule, with a sctupulous observance of small formalities which European meet- ings would ignore or despise. Points of order almost too fine for a parliament are taken, argued, decided on by the Chair, to whom every one bows.Arn. Corn., II, p. 187. Mr. Bryces sense of humor is of AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH H1STORIANS. 53 course keenly alive to the pomposity of diction in newspaper editorials and upon public platforms when political questions are to the front. The pro- clivities of the workmen in the Wil- limantic mills during a political cam- paign are duly cited among the throbs of Connecticuts pulse. But where he differs from many another friendly critic is in his discernment of the fact that the very editors and speakers who utter such stuff are themselves often entirely conscious of its absurdity and perpetuate it with a kind of whimsical perversity that is one of the most characteristic of the minor American traits. National institutions are usually considered to be an embodiment of national character. If this be true at all, it should be true in the highest degree in a republic; and the man who undertakes to criticise and expound the institutions of a republic must ap- proach his task with a clear sense of its magnitude as well as its delicacy. One of the gravest duties to which any one can be called is that of the for- mation and utterance of a wise, dis- criminating, sympathetic and explicit estimate of the character of an individ- ual. Multiply the individual by the million, and the task of rightly esti- mating the composite result becomes great enough to daunt all but fools and men of exceptional wisdom and humility. In the latter category two names will ever stand preaminent be- fore American eyesAlexis de Toque- yule and James Bryce. In the opening chapter of the Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, his nephew and biographer has afforded us a glimpse of the Clapham Sect just clear and definite enough to prove in the highest degree tantalizing. Thorn- ton, Babington, Stephen, Wilberforce and the Macaulays are introduced in their Clapham surroundings and rela- tions only to be dismissed again. The glimpse is invaluable, however, as sup- plementing in ever so fragmentary a fashion Sir James Stephens memo- rable essay on the Sect. But neither Sir James Stephen nor Sir George Trevelyan explains as the reader would gladly see explained the devel- opment of English style as it evidently took place upon the borders of Clap- ham Commona development of which each writer in his own genera- tion is almost as worthy an exemplar as was Lord Macaulay himself. The more I think, wrote Jeffrey, when he acknowledged the receipt of the essay on Milton, the less I can conceive where you picked up that style. The wonder is perhaps not quite so great in the case of Sir George Trevelyan; vet his style is almost as distinctive as was his uncles. The reader may con- ceivably deny that Macaulays style was a good one; but he will be rash indeed if he attempt to gainsay its charm. If, on austerely critical grounds, however, he dislike or claim to dislike the uncle, he will be reasonably sure to disapprove of the nephew; for the relationship is clearly marked. There is the same love of antithesis, the same wonderful fertility in allusion, the same felicity in the ap- plication of epithet, the same abundant play of humor, the same unforced and natural recognition of great moral distinctions, the same undeniable and inevitable fascination. Yet Sir George Trevelyans manner is as far as possi- ble from suggesting any attempt at imitation. Indeed the reader some- times suspects him of fighting against a natural tendency toward antithetic expression lest he should seem to have formed himself upon family models; now and then some quip is to be met so unconventional that it must have been studied, and occasionally there is a suggestion of political prejudice with which Americans will generally find themselves in sympathy. But these are minor blemishes, if blem- is~hes at all, upon the most lucid, pic- turesque and altogether engaging style that has been brought to the ser- vice of the hLtorical essay since Macaulay died. For $ir George Trevelyan is essentially an essayist. 154 AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. He does not drag us into his workshop and force us to examine the raw material of which his fabric is to be woven. He shows us enough to prove himself an honest workman, and we trust him none the less because he does not, after the manner of those hard-handed sons of toil, the annalists, stop us at each literary or political al- lusiOn, that we may examine an affi- davit to its validity. If, like his uncle, he occasionally presumes a little upon the knowledge of his readers, it is a form of flattery to which they rar ly fail to respond, and by which we may even venture to hope they sometimes profit. The charm of Sir George Trevel- yans style and the large measure of his literary competence were proven by The Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay. The Early History of Charles James Fox enhanced the reputation already won by revealing rare acquaintance with eighteenth century politics and literature, joined to a keen historic sense and an ability to discriminate with almost unpre- cedented precision between the inci- dental and the essential in the life of a highly artificial society. The work is really an elaborate and brilliant es- say upon public life in general, and the training of a supremely able parlia- mentarian in particular, during the third quarter of the last century. Its candor is in no sense corrupted by the authors refusal to disguise his per- sonal convictions or even his predilec- tions. He believes in the Rocking- ham Whigs; but his faith by no means blinds him to the admirable personal qualities of Lord North. He honors Cl~iatham, as every generous man must honor him; but he does not deny his utter political impracticability. He is perhaps a little partial to General Conway; but what gentleman ever knew him and was not? He does not spare the Bedford Crew; but the Bed- ford Crew, who might have asked quarter of a modern historian, had they been merely prejudiced and nar- row, added such utter and shameless corruption to the tale of their other sins that they bade fair to infect the whole body politic with the seeds of death. The stage on which these characters of Sir George Trevelyans played their parts in The Early History of Charles James Fox was thus crowded with life and color. No one since Sir Na- thaniel Wraxall went to jail for libel had made the worthies of the earlier half of George IIIs reign live and move before us with such verisimili- tude. And now that we have the first volume of The American Revolu- tion, we realize that the curtain is up again upon another scene of the same great drama, and that the change of name denotes no violence done to the dramatic unities. New characters are introduced; but they do not crowd the old ones off the stage. Tidings come from afar; but they are not permitted to divert us from the progress of events at Westminster. Indeed one of the great services which this first volume of Sir George Trevelyans work promises to do, es- pecially for Americans, consists in the clear view that it affords of the com- munity of interest between the more sober and substantial of the revolu- tionists in the colonies and the splen- did but almost helpless minority in Parliament. In a very characteristic passage Wraxall has testified to his sense of the intellectual brilliance and moral weight of the Opposition during his first years in Parliament, which were the last years of the American Revolution. But with the exception of a few outstanding names, this Op- position is almost unknown to the av- erage American reader. When he thinks of the Parliament and Parlia- ment-men of this period, the vision of North, Townshend and Germaine rises before him. He knows some- thing of Grenvilles stubbornness and pride, but little of his real constitu- tional learning and genuine independ- ence. Chatham and Burke he rever- ences, but rarely thinks of them as ex- ponents of a policy and leaders of a minority, which, though ill organized AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. 55 and factious, yet represented better than Norths corrupt majority could hope to do the real temper and spirit of free Englishmen. Richmond, Rockingham, Shelburne and Camden in the Upper House, Cavendish, Sa- vile, Conway, Barrd and even Fox in the Lower are little more than names to him, although merely as names some of them were writ large upon the geography of his country by an earlier and more grateful generation.* If they remember Dartmouth, it is more than likely to be for his mistakes rather than for those substantial ex- cellencies of mind and character which Sir George Trevelyan has done well to emphasize; while Lord Norths reputation suffers, as one must reluctantly admit it deserves to suffer, from close alliance with such Poor old bits of battered brass, Beaten out of all shape by the worlds sins,,, as Rigby, Sandwich and Jerry Dyson. As regards the Revolution itself, Sir George Trevelyans point of view may be indicated by the stanza of Tennv- son with which he prefaces his work: 0 thou that sendest out the man To rule by land and sea, Strong mother of a Lion-line, Be proud of these strong sons of thine Who wrenched their rights from thee His generosity is throughout in per- fect accord with this flue suggestion of his purpose. Nowhere need the most ardent partisan of the extreme Revolutionary wing feel that the least injustice is done to him or his friends. Indeed the question some- times arises whether full and complete justice is done to the other side; as, for instance, when Gibbon is repre- seuted as preparing for the debate on American affairs by a four-hour con- versation, in which, to use his own phrase, he sucked Governor Hutch- * There are, for instance, conways upon the maps of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, 5outh carolina and Arkansas; Massachusetts and New Hampshire honor Barrd in similar fashion; while Pennsylvania boasts a combination in wilkesbarre that might well have drawn ~iron tears~~ from the latter worthy. inson very dry,xvith as much probability, adds our author, of ar- riving at a just conclusion as a Roman senator who took his idea of the Si- cilian character from a nrivate con- versation with Verres. This is prob- ably literally true, and yet, Hutchin- son was no Verres. In general, Sir George Trevelyan estimates Whig and. Tory alike with extraordinary clear- ness of insight, frankness of speech and wealth of allusion. The allusion never fails to be clever, even though it is sometimes a little too carefully studied; and often it proves vastly il- luminating. What, for instance, could better illustrate the earlier char- acter and manner of Fox than to say that he would as soon have thought of writing down what he was going to say as of meeting a bill before it fell due ! And when, without turning the page, we read of George III condol- ing with his minister after a successful division on having been kept out of bed till three in the morning, which interjects the author, in the case of Lord North was a very differ- ent thing from being kept awake, we begin to see with what good hu- mor and discrimination these portraits have been drawn. How perfectly the virile but coarse and tyrannical nature of Dundas, Who was one day to have all Scotland for a pocket borough, is suggested in these two sentences: Tall and manlywith a marked na- tional accent, of which, unlike Wedder- burne, he had the good sense not to be ashamedhis look and bearing betokened indefatigable powers and a dominant na- ture. His face showed evident marks of his having been a hearty fellow, for which a convivial generation liked him none the less, especially when they came to find that his speeches had other things about them which were broad besides their Scotch. It is impossible in the brief space at my command to give any adequate notion of Sir George Trevelyans treatment of the xvar. In no sense is this first volume a military history. Its narrative is clear and easy, and its mil 156 AMERICAN HISTORY AND ENGLISH HISTORIANS. itary criticism appears to a layman to be eminently discriminating and lu- nilnous. Every American and Eng- lishman who cares anything for an understanding between the two branches of the race, that shall be per- manently founded upon mutual re- spect rather than on hysterical senti- ment and temporary political expedi- ency, will do well to read this record of the opening campaigns of a great struggle. But he will do even better to mark and to ponder the authors estimate of the men who identified themselves with the cause of freedom on both sides of the sea, and his lucid exposition of the principles that ani- mated them. Sir George Trevelyan seems to be almost the first English- man to understand John Adams as a man and to indicate the significance of his leadership. It was to be ex- pected that an historian of his type would rejoice to do justice to Frank- lin and Washington. But Adams has too often been regarded as a repre- sentative of New England in a narrow and provincial sense. Sir George Trevelyan discerns in him the depth and breadth of character, the high sense of honor, the keenness of ethical perception and the substantial con- servatism that are quite as typically American as the careless facility of nature and manner with which Amer- icans are usually credited; and his treatment of Adams is illustrative of his work as a whole. Toward the close of his volume he thus sums up the work of the Min- isters during the first year and a half of the war: They had alienated all the neutral opin- ion in America, and had lighted a flame of resentment ag~iinst Great Britain which they continued to feed with fresh fuel until it grew so hot that it did not burn itself out for a couple of lifetimes. Nothing could be better calculated to quench the embers of that baleful fire, if any still remain, than the work which Sir George Trevelyan has in- augurated with such conspicuous success. The American who reads this first volume finds those whom he has been taught from infancy to rev- erence treated with a sympathetic justice that in the case of Washington and Adams becomes itself reverent. He finds the life and aspirations of the colonists understood as their descend- ants understand them. He is re- minded of what he is too prone to forget, that under constitutional forms the government of Great Britain dur- ing the Revolutionary epoch was little better than absolutism, and that the war was almost as real a struggle for English as for American freedom. He is made better acquaintedin many cases, even among intelligent Amer- icans, he will find himself introduced to them for the first timewith a dis- tinguished company of public men who were consistent friends of the colonists because they were in the truest sense patriotic Englishmen. To say in cant phrase that there are no dull pages in Sir George Trevel- yans volume is to say little; no one expected to find them. To say that he has undertaken a work which bids fair to enhance his already brilliant re- pute as an historian and man of letters is to state a truth to which no kinsman of Lord Macaulay can well be indiffer- ent. But it is safe to affirm that to Sir George Trevelyan himself no reward could be dearer than that his work should go far ~o extirpate a root of bitterness from the hearts of two great and kindred nations. HIS ONE GOOD DEED. By Emily Binney Smith. HE second meeting- house built in Ames- bury some time in the latter part of the seventeenth or the early part of the eighteenth century was, so tradition tells us, a Quaker meeting-house. A log structure, with planks for seats, it was built on the bank of the Powow just above its falls, in the shadow of the great forest-covered hill, where even then the Indian lurked, and which had seen many a powow or council called to its woods by beacon fires on its top. From the foot of the hill a rude plank bridge spanned the narrow but swift, wxld, lovely river. To-day we call this all part of Whittier land, and as one looks from the hill top, the highest in Essex county, upon the beautiful view of hill and valley, river and sea, stretching from New Hampshires mountains, past the busy town to the shining seashore, bounded far to the eastward. by Maines lofty peak, one feels with added interest that it is per- meated everywhere by the poets per- sonality. Before the building of the rude meeting-house, Joseph Peaslee, de- spite fines and warnings, had held forth the Quaker doctrine to a suffi- cient number of Amesbury or Salis- bury New-Town people to cause the magistrates finally to forbid his preaching, as very weak, and unfit for so great a work. That there were many Quakers in Salisbury and Amesbury and the surrounding towns of north eastern Massachusetts, whom only fear, or rather policyfor when did a Quaker know fear?kept silent, was quickly shown when persecution ceased. The old Friends Society in Amesbury, in whose meeting-house Whittier worshipped for so many years, had its continuous existence from that early time ; and when to-day the Amesbury townspeople see here and there among them the gray dress and quiet Quaker bonnet framing the peaceful face, they say among them- selves, It is Quarterly Meeting again; and some, perhaps, go up past the poets old home, under the trees he loved, to join the silent wor- shippers in the plain Friends Meet- ing-House on the Friend Street. The house of Thomas Macy, first town clerk of Amesburv and founder of Nantucket, built in 1654, stands to- day on the Main Street of the town apparently in as good condition as when the hero of Whittiers poem of The Exiles sold it to a member of the family in whose possession it has ever since remained. If history and poetry do not always coincide in the story of Macy, it is of little moment. The small, light wherry that swung with every wave at its mooring on the Powow must have been strong and elastic indeed to take Goodman Macy, his wife, five children and the house- hold goods that he bore with him in his flight; and the route from Ames- bury past Pentucket to Nantucket must indeed have been a winding one. This outline of the route was a curious slip of the poets pen, for no one knew better the locality and its stories than he, who was born in Haverhill, the Pentucket of olden tinie, and lived most of his long life in the quiet Amesbury home.* But though the poets pen is a fairy wand, which often changes dross to gold, and the kitchen wench to the princess, and the poet for the reason that he was poet and not historian has varied the picture as he chose, the colors are none too strong for the stanch old ~ When he wrote the poem Mr. Whittier thought that Thomas Macy lived in Andover, not Ameshuryso he once told a friend.E. B. 5. 57 158 HIS ONE GOOD DEED. Independent, Macy, probably even then an unacknowledged Quaker; as he and his family proved to be Quakers after they had landed from their venturesome voyage to Nan- tuckets safe shore, bought before this time by that old-time syndicate, in which Thomas Macy and Tristram Coffin were among the chief mem- bers, for just such a refuge. From 1656 on through i66i came fierce persecution of the Quakers; they were fined, mutilated, whipped at the carts tail, and hanged. Still they multiplied. What an object lesson in respect for authority that whipping at the carts taila punishment of the sinner and a warning to the weak of faith! Never too submissive to their rulers were the early settlers of these northeastern Massachusetts towns; and they resisted bitterly every cur- tailment of their individual rights, so that when Captain Richard Waldron of Doveran intrepid and upright man, one of the founders of Dover, for years member and speaker of the Assembly, and again and again by his vigilance savior of the little settle- ments about him from Indian out- rageon December 22, 1662, pro- nounced his sentence on the three Quaker women, it carried its own menace to the towns on the border. This was the order: To the constables of Dover, Hampton, Salisbury, Newbury, Rowley, Ipswich, Windham, Linn, Boston, Roxbury, Ded- ham, and until these vagabond Quakers are out of this jurisdiction: You and every of you are required in the Kings Majes- tys name to take these vagabond Quakers, Anna Colman, Mary Tompkins and Alice Ambrose, and make them fast to the carts tail, and drawing the cart through your several towns, to whip them upon their bare backs not exceeding ten stripes apiece on each of them in each town. The Indians crossed out more than their own account perhaps when they crossed out their scores with their tomahawks upon the defenceless body of Waldronan old, old man; as Whittier makes the Quaker women prophesy when they hear their sen- tence: And thou, 0 Richard Waldron, for whom We hear the feet of a coming doom, On thy cruel heart and thy hand of wrong Vengeance is sure, though it tarry long. So in Dover and in Hampton they were whipped, making their hapless way in the cruel weather, as the poet tells us: So into the forest they held their way, By winding river and frost-rimmed bay, Over wind-swept hills, that felt the beat Of the winter sea at their icy feet. This until they came to Salisbury; there too they suffered, but it is writ- ten in the history of the province: In Salisbury, Walter ]3arefoote per- formed almost the only praiseworthy act that stands to his credit in history, by taking these persecuted fe- males from the constable, under pre- tence of deliveripg them to the con- stables of Newbury, and securing them from further cruelty by sending them out of the Province.~~ For years the credit of this act has been given to Robert Pike of Salis- bury; but though it might be a crowning act in a life fearless in be- half of right, he can better spare this deed of clemency in his record than the man who had so little to his credit, and who was so hated in his time. In Whittiers dramatic poem, How the Women Went from Dover, he says finely of Justice Pike: He scoffed at witchcraft; the priest he met As man meets man; his feet he set TBeyond his dark age, standing upright, Soul-free, with his face to the morning light ; and he makes him say further: Cut loose these poor ones and let them go. Come what will of it, all mep shall know No warrant is good though backed by the crown, For whipping women in Salisbury town. That Robert Pike and the people of Salisbury may have favored the re HIS ONE GOOD DEED. 59 lease of the wretched women is doubt- less true; but on the page of history Walter Barefoote has the credit of their escape. From 1662,when he first comes into notice as he frees the Quaker women, to 1685, when we last see him, he and Waldron are, when thrown in contact, always bitterly opposed; and while there may have been some motive of opposition to Waldron to influence him in his good act, the old chronicle says further of him that so far as recollected, he was the only physician of education in the province of New Hampshire, and one would like rather to think that it was the pity and helpfulness towards human suffering that go with the physicians calling (he knew well that the sentence was equivalent to death), and that mercy directed him. Let us give him the benefit of the doubt; for it is the one deed, and its ray is a feeble one in the darkness that for two centuries has clung to him. Only this once he comes into Salisbury history. His name is on none of the land grants of Salisbury, Newbury or Hampton, but living in Dover or Portsmouth, he was probably known in the locality; for two years later he is engaged with Dr. Henry Greenland in an assault on some Newbury men, and fined there- for, although one of the witnesses testified of Greenlanda man of Cap- tain Underhills sort: He was a gentleman, and such must have their liberties. There he is called Captain Barefoote; and that is his usual title, as he is no~vhere called Doctor. In i68o Edward Randolph brought to New England the commission for the province of New Hampshire, xvhich was to include Portsmouth, Dover, Exeter, Hampton and all other lands extending for three miles north of the river Merrimack, and of any and every part thereof to the province of Maine. All this land between the Merrimack and Pis- cataqua rivers had been the old Norfolk county of Massachusetts, which included the towns of Salis bury, Haverhill, Hampton, Exeter, Portsmouth and Dover, with most uncertain boundaries. A president was appointed, a council of nine, and an assembly composed of deputies from the towns. Randolph brought also his appointment by the king, under the acts of trade, as collector, surveyor and searcher of the customs throughout New England. He ap- pointed Captain Walter ]3arefoote his deputy at Portsmouth, and an ad- vertisement was published that all vessels must be entered and cleared with him. The Council, always keep- ing a jealous watch over its rights, feeling that no authority of the crown should be exercised but through it, in accordance with the terms of the com- mission, and finding the duties and re- strictions of the acts of trade espe- cially hateful, denied Randolphs au- thority and indicted Barefoote for having in an high and presumptuous manner set up his Majestys office of customs without leave from the Presi- dent and Council, for disturbing and obstructing his Majestys subjects in passing from harbor to harbor and town to town, and for his insolence in making no other answer to any question propounded to him but My name is Walter. For this he was fined io; and again when, later, Waldron is president of the Council, for seizing a vessel without the knowledge or the authority of the Province he is fined 20, to be res- pited during good behavior; and he appeals to the king from the sentence. In 1682 Edward Cranfield is ap- pointed lieutenant governor and com- mander-in-chief of New Hampshire by the king in behalf of Mason, the claimant of its lands, and Mason has mortgaged the whole province to him for twenty-one years, as security for the payment of 150 per annum for seven years; and Walter Barefoote, with Waldron and others, is a member of the governors Coun- cil. A strong man evidently though an unscrupifi ous one, he has al- ways worked in the interests of i6o HIS ONE GOOD DEED. Mason against the people, as Wal- dron, who is soon suspended from the Council by the governor, has always worked for the peoplewho, having bought their lands from the Indians, are contending all this time for their possession. In 1683 Barefoote is made captain of the fort, and the As- sembly, refusing to be intimidated, is dissolved by the governor, who with his Council assumes the whole legis- lative power, prohibiting vessels from Massachusetts from entering Ports- mouth, altering the value of silver money, changing the bounds of town- ships, and Barefoote, his willing aid, is made deputy governor, and judge of the Court of Sessions. When godly Parson Moodey of Portsmouth, a friend of the people in their troubles, refuses to administer the sacrament of the Lords Supper to the governor, according to the liturgy, it is Barefoote who imposes the sen- tence of six months imprisonment withoutbail. Walter Barefoot~, Esq., was of opinion that the said Joshua Moodey had broken the said laws and is liable to the penalty thereof. All this time there are riots and re- sistance to the levying of taxes in Masons name; and Edward Gove, the Hampton farmer, is sent to the Tower of London, and hears the awful sentence for treason imposed upon him for his rebellion. Finally, in 1685, Edward Cranfield left New Hampshire disgusted at the resistance of the people to Masons claims, and Walter Barefoote, the deputy gov- ernor, took the governors chair and held it until in May of the next year Joseph Dudley was appointed by the king president of New England. In that short time of authority two events of note took place, for it was at Dover, during his governership, that in an attempt to levy one of his executions in favor of Mason, during divine service, one of the officers was knocked down by a Bible in the hands of a woman, and all were glad to escape with their lives. It was at this time too that an assault was made on Barefoote and Mason, of which the original deposition on oath of the two men tells the story. Thomas Wiggin of Exeter and Anthony Nutter of Dover had been members of the As- sembly, and their hatred and griev- ances against both were great. They came to Barefootes house, where Mason lodged, the account goes on, and disputed with Mason, denying his claims, until Mason took hold of Wiggin to thrust him from the door; but Wiggin, seizing him, threw him into the fire, where his clothes and one of his legs were burned. Bare- foote, attempting to help him, met with the same fate at the hands of the doughty Wiggin, and had two of his ribs broken and one of his teeth beaten out. Then the servants brought Masons sword, which Wig- gin took away, making sport of their misery.~~ Such injuries were evidently in- sufficient to kill a man of Barefootes calibre; but we can imagine how the farmers of Dover and Exeter and the men of Hampton and Portsmouth must have told over and over the stories of that fierce fight and mag- nified the glory of the valorous Wig- gin around their log fires through the winter evenings. With this last exhibition of the hatred of the people whom he gov- erned, we leave the subject of our sketch. Cast c the shore of New England in those times was much flotsam of a curious natureadven- turers like Underhill and Barefoote. sanctimonious sinners and senseless saints. Here and there one with abil- ity made himself a nan~ie for good or ill; and among these was Doctor, Captain, Judge and Governor Wal- ter Barefoote. THE ROBINS NEST. By Sarah J. Eddy. Illustrated from photographs by the author. When the willows gleam along the brooks, And the grass grows green in sunny nooks, In the sunshine and the rain I hear the robin in the lane Singing Cheerily, Cheer up, cheer up; Cheerily, cheerily, Cheer up. WHEN the early Pilgrims, re- membering the Robin Red- Breast of their native land and all the songs and stories which helped to make him dear, saw this bird with his red breast, they gave him the same name and encour- aged him to live near them. All creatnres are so will- ing to be onr friends if we will let them, that we can imagine that the robins felt the friendly atmos- phere and gladly fonnd places for their nests near the New England homes. No doubt traditions of kindly interest were banded down in the robin families un- til they finally felt quite confident of a welcome wherever they might go. One year in the early spring, when the new house was being built on the pleasant land overlooking the blue waters of the bay, a pair of robins evi- dently thought that, since the country belonged to them, this new structure THE OLD BARN STUDIO. 162 THE ROBINS NEST. THE EGGS. was a sort of foundation be- ing prepared for their nest. They tried again and again to build in the unfin- ished piazza and of course the workmen were obliged to drive them away. The next best place, they concluded, was the wild cherry tree with branches almost touching the piazza roof and so there the nest was placed, and the little mother calmly sat, apparently quite undisturbed by the hammering and noises going on while the house was being built. Possibly she thought that it was a specially safe place be- cause the owner of it belonged to several societies for the pro- tection of birds and distrib- uted a variety of leaflets con- taining sentiments of which she highly approved. She did not know that two honored members of the family, two beautiful cats, had not yet joined these societies nor learned to discriminate be- tween birds and other living, moving things which they had been praised for catching. However, her confidence was not misplaced, for a wire pro- tection was arranged around the trunk of the tree and no cat could climb beyond it. Another summer, when we found a robins nest with three blue eggs in it on the corner of the fence by the old barn studio, we were sorry. We thought that it was so near the ground the cat would find it and there would ADMIRING THE LITTLE ONES. THE ROBINS NEST. be trouble for the poor birds. But the Wise Man said: Put w i r e netting around, so that the cat cannot reach it. We asked the car- penter to do this, and, al- though he thought it might disturb the birds so that they would forsake the nest, he said he would try it. If the mother-bird leaves her nest, then I will take it, said the artist, and paint a picture of it, with the three blue eggs. If she stays there, she will be anxious and scold if the cats come near, and perhaps it will be just as well if she gives it up now. But the mother-bird allowed the carpenter to put up the wire protec- tion and to cut a little window in the side of the studio so that the artist could set up her camera to photograph the nest. At first it was impossible to obtain a picture of the bird on her nest; for when the little board slide which cov- ered the window was pushed back, she would fly away before the picture could be taken. So the Wise Man was co:isulted again, and he advised having a piece of glass placed back of an opening just large enough for the camera lens, so that the birds would become accustomed to the glass eye; then after a while the glass could be withdrawn and they would not be afraid of the lens. This being done, two small peep- holes were bored in the side of the barn, and it was easy to watch all the housekeeping operations without in the least disturbing the birds. When a picture was to be taken, some one would sit near one hole and the artist near the other, and they would take turns in watching. The camera was all ready for an instantaneous expo- sure, and when the bird appeared it POKING DOWN THE WORM. BEGGING. MOTHER-ROBIN FEEDING THE LITTLE ONES. 164 THE ROBINS NEST. was only necessary to sqneeze the bulb. At first the mother robin was disturbed by the click- ing of the shutter; she would turn and look intently at the little opening in the side of the barn where the camera was placed, and was sometimes so startled that she flew away. After a while, find- ing that no harm came from it, she became more quiet, but always showed that she xvas aware of the noise. We noticed that the father-bird was more easily disturbed and more ready to fly away at the slightest noise. The little birds paid no attention whatever to it, even after they had become old enough to walk out of the nest. VVAile the mother- robin was sitting on the nest, before the little ones were hatched and for some time after that, the father-bird failed to appear, and we feared that some ac- cident had happened to him, or that he was neglecting his family. After watch- ing a long time, he was heard snging in a neighboring tree, and we concluded he was not helping his nest more frequently, and then the father-robin brought worms to the little ones. Only once during the whole watching did the two birds ap- pear together on the nest. The mother usually sat in one posi- tion on the nest, looking towards die house to see if any one was coming. Later on, after the little birds were hatched, she almost always ap mate as he ought. Possibly he thought that while the birds were very young the mother could take the whole care of them; Oi it may be that he came when no one was looking. After a while, however, the mother-bird left the A LONG WORM. THE ROBINS NEST. uroached the nest from the same di- ulet ely disappearing. The young ones rection, and alighted in the same spot usually had their heaks wide open to feed the birds. The father-bird usu- when the parents were near; but this ally alighted on another part of the time they were closed, and the little nest. They could be easily distin- things seemed to try to get out of the guished from each other, the father way, as if they quite realized what was being a longer, slimmer bird. going on. The mother-robin, we were Soon the yellow beaks appeared surprised to see, swallowed the refuse above the edge of the nest, and looked that she brought up from the bottom like little flowers growing, especially of the nest. when they were stretched up in readi- As the robins grew older, they be- ness for the possible worm. They came more clamorous and anxious for would open wide every now and then, food, and both parent birds were kept and sometimes a little bird would keep busy providing for them. The mother its beak open for a long time and ap- bird seemed to take more pains than parently go to sleep in that position. In the morning, for an hour or two, when the sun was shining on the nest, the mother improved the opportunity to stay away. as she was not needed for warmth, and then the father-bird came oftener to feed the little ones. One morning we saw the mother-bird cleaning house. She stood on the edge of the nest and ver~ rapidly and with a great deal of force darted her beak into the bottom of the nest, her head com- A CORNER IN THE STUDIO. 165 i66 THE ROBINS NEST. the father to poke the long worms carefully and thoroughly down the little throats. It seemed sometimes as if the little birds must choke, but evidently they knew how to dispose of all they could get. We were reminded of what a very small boy once said: I shouldntshink the birds would like to eat worms. I shoo shink it would make em shick. Sometimes the mother-bird would sit on the nest awhile and then rise and feed the little ones. She had evi- dently been preparing the food for them; but usually she gave the whole long worm just as soon as she reached the nest. The little robins grew so fast that soon the nest was too small for them; and then we found that the parent I{1JilIN U. ALL QUIET. birds had been wise in their selection of a building place. The little birds were much better off than if the nest had been in a tree, as they could walk out of the nest on to the fence and stretch themselves, preen their feath- ers and learn how to use their legs and wings, without danger of falling. After a while it hardly seemed pos- sible that the birds could all stay in the nest, they were so crowded. At one time, when we were watching, two of the little birds were in the nest and the others standing on the fence when the mother-bird in some tree near by uttered a cry of warning, and the young birds that were outside walked back to the nest. THE ROBINS NEST. 167 When the birds were larger it was even more evident than it had been before that they were much of the time anxiously waiting and longing to be fed; they would look first in one direction and then in another for the mother-bird, and every once in a while all open their beaks wide and beg. Sometimes apparently a sound would make them think the mother was near, and there would be a great fluttering and twittering and stretch- ing and opening of beaks; then they would become quiet again. The artist watched and waited and sympa- thized with the intense longing of the little birds, and joined in the wild ex- citement when the mother-bird ap- peared xvith a worm. So deeply was she interested, that once or twice, when the excitement was very great, she forgot to draw the cover from the pl& te-holder and so lost the pictures. If they get hungry so quickly, thought the artist, and show such anxious longing for their food, even xvhen they are regularly cared for by the parent birds, how they must suffer when any accident happens! How is it when the mother never comes again? How long do the hungry little mouths keep open in vain, and the cries continue, before the little ones starve, when made orphans by some cruel shot or stone thrown by a thoughtless boy? The artist wished that those who enjoy shooting could watch these robins feed their young, so faith- fully and untiringly, for she felt that they must sympathize with them and with the longing and de- light of the little ones, and that they never again would find pleas- ure in killing or wounding any bird. Before long there was an empty nest, and four happy young birds had flown away and were busily seeking their own food and in their turn helping those who had tried so hard to protect them, by de- vouring large numbers of the very destructive cutworms, cankerworms, beetles, grasshoppers and caterpillars. Ornithologists say that a young robin in the nest requires a daily supply of animal food equivalent to considerably more than its own weight; and so we can form some idea of how much good these four robins must have done in the fields and garden before the sum- mer was over. A SUN BATH. A cONFERENcE. i68 THE ROBINS NEST. WATCHING. Besides all this, their human friends were made happier by their beauty and their song and perhaps when the lane grows green again with bursting buds and all the beauty of springtime, these four robins, fledglings no longer, will build their nests on the fence or among the trees that shade the old barn studio, and again will be heard their glad refrain. WAITING. All you say is true, my dear,the same cat may come here again, and the same woman may come. You know last year she picked up the nest, and I could see that, although she was sorry for me, she was a little glad too, XVHAT THE MOTHERROBIN THOUGHT. for she carried off the uest with joy and placed it in her studio. I heard Yes, I know, said the little her say that of course we could not mother-robin, as she laid the first twig use it any longer and it was of no use in the corner of the fence for the new to put it back. How troubled we nest; yes, I remember that last year were, do you remember? But we flew 5TJLL WATChING AND WAITING. our beautiful large nest with four precious eggs in it was torn down from this same corner and thrown to the ground. THE ROBINS NEST. 169 away to the old apple orchard and made another nest high up among the houghs. Our little ones grew to he fine birds and we were happy once more. Before they were old enough to fly, you know that one of them fell, crowded out of the nest, and was hurt. The little boy from the farmhouse found him and carried him off, al- though we fluttered near and begged him to leave our little one to us to care for. The people did not know how to feed him, although I think they meant to be kind, and I have always felt very sad when I thought of his fate. If I could only have had this nice ~edge for the little birds to walk on when they grew too large to stay together in the nest, i am sure no accident would have happened. I must try this place again. I have a feeling that all will be right this time. Let us build the nest and see. This year the vine covers the corner of the fence as it did not last year, and we cannot so readily be seen, and I will always watch so carefully,yes, here the nest must be! Oh dear, the cat has not come vet, but the woman has, and I heard her talking about us. What will she do? Shall we stay and take care of our three beautiful eggs or shall we fly away? A man has been here and nailed wire netting all around my nest. I wonder why. Surely I must fly away; it looks very dangerous; but how can I leave my eggs? They need the warmth that I must give them. Oh, still worse, they have made a hole in the old barn and I know they are watching us. Oh, what shall we do? Surely, we must give up this nest; but how can we leave the eggs,they are so beautiful, and now there are four of them. No, let us wait and see! Still worse has happened; they watch and wait for me, and when I settle down on the nest they move a little shutter quickly,but I fly away still more quickly. Surely we cannot stay in this dangerous place. But how can we go and leave the four warm eggs? I can almost feel the lit- tle ones inside begging me ndt to let them get cold. The glass eye is always there, but nothing has hurt us yet; and now one little egg is broken, and such a soft, wee, helpless little thing has come out! I never can leave it now. My mate is afraid and does not often come COME AND JYLED USI A QUARTET. 170 THE ROBINS NEST. near; but he must soon, for other little ones are coming and they must be fed. Such hungry little birds! We are both just as busy as we can be. They are such strong birds; they could eat all the time. I hardly have time for a mouthful myself. Fortunately there are plenty of worms near here. WHY DOESNT SHE COME? the woman seems to try to be careful not to frighten us. I have a feeling that there is good will to- wards us behind that wall, al- though those people do such strange things and make such queer noises. - net was nailed around the fence. To- The little soft bodies are beginning day the same cat that upset my nest to have feathers. My mate and I look last year came here and looked up at at them and admire them, and talk to me; but she could not get near me, them; and we would be quite happy if and, although I was terribly fright- the glass eye were not there. ened, I sat very still and very quiet, and with a disappointed meouw she Oh, such beautiful little birds never came out of robins eggs before! And they are already hungry. I watch very sharply when I sit here in the sunshine, and sometimes a sudden noise will make my heart beat so fast that the little ones stir gently beneath me; but nothing has hurt us yet, and THERE 5HH is! THE ROBINS NEST. 7 They are all ont of the nest, and one of them flew off from the fence for the first time to-day! Such beautiful birds, so strong, snch glossy feathers, snch red breasts, such bright eyes! I could see the woman looking at them to-day as they walked up and down on the fence and stretched their wings. I know she admires them; of course she does. I am not afraid of her now, although it is well to be cautious and not make too many advances. We have told our lit- tle ones that a fence is a FEED ME! FEED ME! walked away. We dont mind the glass eye now nor the queer little noises. Our four babies are getting so big and are al- ways so hungry that we have no time to be afraid. They are walk- ing on the fence now, and I am so glad I built my nest just here. They all come back at night, but soon, very soon, they will fly away. Sometimes we are almost dismayed, they are so voracious. How many worms we must find to satisfy them! Indeed, they are never satisfied, and even in their sleep they murmur, More! more! very good place for a nest; for some day that information may be useful to them. Next spring when the apple blossoms come and the sunshine calls to the buttercups and the green grass, I think we will again build our nest by the Old Barn Studio. MORE! MORE! THE OLD NEW ENGLAND MEETING-HOUSE. By Christopher C. Hazard. LIKE an old mother by a roadside left, Age and neglect attendant on her heart, Ingratitude her staff, suggestive graves Her comfort, with far sonnds of joyous youth Pursuing butter flies with strength she gave, Her voice unheeded in a pleasant world That she created, and her lessons lost, She waits for those who come not and is sad. Time, reverent, gently covers her with dust, And Time, indignant, furrows up the earth For a new harvest of more worthy sons. 72 Drawn by XV. r. Kingman. THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. By Annie M. L. Clark. Illustrated from photographs by J. C. L. Clark and F. T. Harvey. EARLY in the summer of 1843, curiosity and interest were aroused in the minds of the in- habitants of the quiet town of Har- vard, Massachusetts, by the advent among them of a small colony of that class of high thinkers who had re- ceived the name of Transcendentalists. The little company, sixteen in all, comprised Amos Bronson Alcott and nine other men, Mrs. Alcott, Miss Anna Page, and the four Alcott chil- dren. This somewhat incongruous family located itself on a pictur- esquely situated sidehill farm in the section of Harvard known as North Still River, but often spoken of by the less euphonious name of Hog Street.~~ That the founders of this little com- munity were actuated by high and noble motives we can well believe; and the story of their plans and fail- ures cannot but be of interest to thoughtful minds. It would be perti- nent to trace the mental and moral training and the early home and neighborhood environments of the various members of the community at Fruitlands; but, as that is not pos- sible, it may be well to turn a back- ward glance at the parentage and youthful life of those who might fit- tingly be called the soul and centre of the enterprise. Amos Bronson Alcott was born in Wolcott, Connecticut, Novem- ber 29, 1799, at the foot of Spindle Hill. The family name was orig- inally Alcocke, and is often found in English history. Mention is made that about i6i6 a coat of arms was granted to Thomas Alcocke, the device being three cocks, em- blematic of watchfulness, with the motto, Semper vigilans. One writer says: Mr. Alcotts ancestors on both sides had been substantial people of respectable position in Eng- land, and were connected with the founders and governors of the chief New England colonies. Brought up on a farm, Alcott has given the story of his quaint, rustic life in the simple verse of his New Connecticut, while Louisa has re- produced it in Elis Education, one of her Spinning-Wheel Stories, which is said to give a very true pic- ture of her fathers early days. His mother was a gentle, refined xvoman, who bad strong faith in her boy, and lived to see him the accomplished scholar he had vowed in boyhood to become. In Louisas journal occurs this mention of her grandmother: Grandma Alcott came to visit us. A sweet old lady. I am glad to know her and see where Father got his na- ture. As we sat talking over Fathers boyhood, I never realized so plainly before how much be has done for himself. His early life sounded like a pretty, old romance, and Mother added the love passages. From her grandmothers conversa- OLD HOUSE AT FRUITLANDS. 73 1,74 THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. tion Miss Alcott got, as she says, a hint for a story ; and this story was to be called The Cost of an Idea. It was to contain the trials and tri- umphs of the Pathetic Family, with chapters entitled, Spindle Hill, Temple School, Fruitlands, Boston, and Concord. I have heard that a lingering fear of seeming to present some of her fathers char- acteristics to ridicule kept her from fulfilling this purpose. Mrs. AlcottAbba Maywas the twelfth and youngest child of Colonel Joseph May of Boston, her mothers name being Dorothy Sewall. Miss May was visiting her brother, the Rev. Samuel J. May, minister over a Unitarian church in B rook 1 y n, Connecticut, when she met her future husband. They were married by her brother, May 23, 1830, in Kings Chapel, wheie the bride had been baptized in in- fancy. It is said that Mrs. May was a woman of rare and charming character, and any one who ever saw Mrs. Alcott can readily be- lieve what the daughter herself wrote of her mother: She never said great things, but did ten thousand generous ones.~~ Mr. Alcott was farmer boy, peddler and teacher by turn. In 1832 he was living and teaching in Germantown, Pennsylvania, where on his thirty-third birthday was born his daughter Louisa, x~hose feet were to mount the lad- der of fame higher than his own. From Germantown to Boston and the famous Temple School; and here Mr. Alcott was gradu- ally formulating the plan which led to the settlement of Fruit- lands, and also strenuously carry- ing out his conviction that the simplest food was alone conducive to high and lofty thinking and living. We are told that the children grew very tired of rice without sugar, and Graham meal without either butter or molasses. He was, this high priest of high ideas, very critical in religious mat- ters, writing thus: I am dissatisfied with the general preaching of every sect and with the individuals of any sect. Some one has said that he seemed to have adopted what Sir Wil- liam Davenant called an ingenuous Quakerism. Soon the title of phi- U1t~,11A1(IJ Al Vl(UliLAiNl)~. THE BRICK ENDS. THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. 75 losopher was added to that of peddler and teacher; and he became known as a bright and shining light among the visionary but earnest company of Transcendentalists. Going to England, he found there congenial spirits; and in October, 1842, he came home, accompanied by three of these new friends, Charles Lane and his son, William, and Henry C. Wrigtt. lVIiss Alcott, in a story entitled Transcendental Wild Oats, which she further calls a chap- ter from an unwritten ro- mance, writes as follows: On the first day of June, 1843, a large wagon, drawn by a small horse and containing a motley load, went lumbering over cer- tain New England hills, with the pleasing accompaniments of wind, rain and hail. A se- rene man with a serene child upon his knee was driving, or rather being driven, for the small horse had it all his own way. Behind a small boy, em- bracing a bust of Socrates, was an energetic looking woman, with a benevolent brow, satiri- cal mouth and eyes full of hope and courage. A baby reposed upon her lap, a mirror leaned against her knee, a basket of provisions danced about her feet, and she struggled with a large, unruly umbrella, with which she tried to cover every one but herself. Twilight be- gan to fall, and the rain came down in a despondent drizzle, but the calm man gazed as tranquilly into the fog as if he beheld a radiant bow of promise spanning the gray sky. Thus came this new Adam and Eve into their hoped for Eden. One of the band who were here to make the wilderness blossom like the rose wrote thus of Fruitlands, which was the name they decided to give their new home: It is very remotely situated, without a road, but sur- rounded by a beautiful green land- scape of fields and woods. Nothing could have been more romantic than the site chosen,a field of about a hundred acres on a hillside, sloping to the river, with the most lovely views of Wachusett and Monadnock to the 1J~Test, the intervening stretches dotted with towns and villages, while in the background rose the tree-crowned summit of Makamachukamucks or Prospect Hill. Here gathered the little band, and began the work of forming a family in harmony with the primitive in- stincts of man. Mrs. Alcott and Anna Page were the only women. No animal food was to be eaten, nor were butter, cheese, eggs or milk allowed nothing that in the taking would cause pain or seem like robbing any animal; besides, animal food, if only approximately animal, as in the case of milk and butter, would corrupt the body and through that the soul. Tea, coffee, molasses and rice were for- THE ROAD TO PROSPECT HILL. THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. Photograph by F. T. THE NASHUA V~uEY FROM PROSPECT HILLFRUITLANDS AT THE RIGHT. bidden for two reasons because they is in purity; with pure beings will were in part foreign luxuries, and in come pure habits; a better being shall part the product of slave labor. be built up from the orchard and the Water alone for drink, fruit in plenty garden; the outward form shall beam and some vegetables were allowed; with soul. From the fountain we but in these last a distinction was will slake our thirst, and our appetite made between those which grow in shall find supply in the delicjous the air and those which grow down- abundance which Pomona offers. ward, like potatoes and others which Flesh and blood we will reject as the form underground. The latter were accursed thing. A pure mind has no less suited for what these visionaries faith in them. termed a chaste supply for their Certain ideas called No Govern- bodily needs. Miss Alcott says that ment Theories held sway in Mr. Al- ten ancient apple trees were all the cotts breast, which just before his go- chaste supply the place afforded. ing to Harvard led to his arrest by Salt was another article forbidden, it the deputy sheriff, Sam Staples, for is hard to see why. Maple syrup and refusing to pay his taxes, on the sugar were to be abundant in time, ground that he would not support and bayberry tallow was to furnish a government so false to the law of light, when anything but the inner love. And here I must digress to light was required. All this was to tell what Thoreau calls a good anec- elevate and purify the body and bring dote. Miss Helen Thoreau asked about a state of perfection in body, Sheriff Staples what he thought Mr. mind and soul. Alcotts idea was; and he answered, The following are some of the with hearty if inelegant emphasis, principles upon which their habits of I vum, I believe it was nothing but life were to rest: We must ignore principle, for I never heard a man talk laws which ignore holiness; our trust honester. Even those who most THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. 77 thoroughly disbelieved in the prac- ticability of the reformers views were ready to concede his heartfelt honesty of purpose. Emerson calls Mr. Alcott ~a nineteenth century Simon Sty- lites. With these high, unpractical qual- ities, as Mr. Sanborn tells us, Mr. Al- cott set out for Fruitlandsthe name, like everything else fine about these plans, but a prophecy. The projects of these people were, as Mr. Emerson was fond of describing them, with- out feet or hands. Ordinary farm- ing was not part of their plan of life. No ploughs were to be used, because they would require the aid of cattle, but the spade and the pruning-knife were to be all sufficient. None of the company were used to the labor re- quired, so of course intense weariness and blistered hands were common; but the All-soul disciples struggled bravely on for a few months, yielding so far to the inevitable need of more strength than their own weak hands could supply as to purchase a pair of oxen to perform the hardest tasks. Miss Alcott asserts, in the half droll, half pathetic pages of Transcendental Wild Oats, that one of the supposed oxen was a cow, and that the pur- chaser used surreptitiously to take long draughts at the milking pail in the privacy of the barn. However that may be, it is said that one and another of the family were glad to share the less frugal meals of kindly neighbors, though I doubt whether this was ever true of Mr. Alcott him- self. Their dress was another matter held of great importance. Cotton was largely the product of slave labor, and wool came from robbing the sheep, so linen was as far as possible to form the material of their gar- ments. One cannot help btit wonder how men with the least fragment of common sense could dream of living in our New England climate clothed in linen. While summer and summer warmth lasted, many deprivations could be overlooked, though even then Mrs. Alcdtts shoulders must have found heavy burdens for their upholding. The rest might be seek- ing the All-soul; but to her fell the task, and it must often have been al- most beyond her powers, of providing for their physical needs., which even with their high philosophy could not be entirely overlooked. The education of the children was not neglected. Miss Page gave them music lessons; and Louisa frankly de- dares she hated the lady, she was so fussy. From their father and Mr. Lane they had instruction in various branches. Louisa in her diary tells of things pleasant and the reverse; how she tried to be good, and how she failed; of a visit from Parker Pills- bury, and his talk about the poor slaves; of their dinners of bread and fruit; how they played in the woods and were fairies, and how she flied the highest of all; of a corn-husking in the barn, with the somewhat un- usual incident, if one may judge by its being mentioned, that they had lamps. A visit from Professor Russell is men- tioned, and a Sundays tramp in the woods for moss to adorn a bower their father was making, in which Mr. Eni.erson was to be honored. Louisa wrote little poems and read and lis- tened to various books. Mrs. Childs Philothea was a great favorite with the little girls, so much so that they made a dramatic version of it, which they acted under the trees. That the father encouraged his children in their innocent gayety is shown in the family habit of celebrating birthdays in a pe- culiarly pleasant manner. Thus when May was three years old, on July 28 of the summer spent at Fruitlands, Mr. Alcott wrote an ode, the whole family met under the trees of a neigh- boring grove, and, crowning the little girl with flowers, he read his poem, celebrating the day in the childs honor, and as the dawn of their open- ing paradise. Mr. Emersons ideas had been an incentive in the establishment of the community, but much as he held faith 178 THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. in the pure ideals of these plans, he never seemed to believe in their prac- tical value, and once called Alcott a tedious archangel, and said that Al- cott and Lane were always feeling of their shoulders to see if their wings were sprouting. Hawthorne wrote of Alcott: One might readily con- ceive his Orphic sayings to well up from a fountain in his breast which communicated with the infinite Abyss of thought. His English friend, Mr. Wright, soon pronounced him im- practical. Thoreau, with many kin- dred beliefs, was sometimes vexed with him; and Lowell, as if in proph- ecy, wrote: Our nipping climate hardly suits The ripening of ideal fruits, His theories vanquish us all summer, But winter makes him dumb and dumber. Some of the members of the family went visiting at Brook Farm, and came home shocked at the luxury and epicureanism they found there. Hecker, the baker at Brook Farm, visited Fruitlands, as he wished to lead a more self-denying life, but after a stay of two weeks departed, still un- satisfied, to eater at last the monastic life. People of strange dress and stranger ideas came and went, largely drones in the worlds workaday hive; and the Newness, the All-soul, must have been written in other words for overworked, tired Mrs. Alcott. Alcott and Lane went to New York to hold a discussion with W. H. Channing. Mrs. Lydia Maria Child, ~ho was a dear personal friend of the Alcotts, gives a somewhat amusing account of the matter. Mr. Child and John Hopper had been to hear the discussion, and Mrs. Child asked what had been talked about. Mr. Child said: Mr. Lane divided man into three states, the disconscious, the con- scious and the unconscious; the dis- conscious is the state of a pig, the conscious is the baptism by water, and the unconscious is the baptism by fire. And as for myself, he added, when T had heard them talk for a few moments, I didnt know whether I had any mind or not. Mr. Hopper declared that while Channing thought there was some connection between mind and body, Alcott and Lane seemed to think the body a sham. In Louisas diary we find what she calls a sample of the vegetable wafers we used at Fruitlands: Vegetable diet and sweet repose; animal food and nightmare.~~ Apollo eats no flesh and has no beard; his voice is melody itself. Pluck your body from the or- chard, do not snatch it from the sham- bles. These are a few of the oracular in- structions the children received from the philosophers. As cool weather came on, times grew harder. We find in Louisas diary, under one date: iVIore people coming to live with us; I wish we could be together, and no one else. I dont see who is to feed and clothe us all, when we are so poor now. I was very dismal, and then went out to walk, and made a poem. This poem is entitled Despond- ency ; and it is interesting as denot- ing the loving trust which showed it- self in the young heart thus early learning of lifes burdens, a trust which is again shown in the record of a little later date, when she tells of going under the forest trees and com- ing out into the sunshine, and of the strange and solemn feeling that came over herthat she, as she expresses it, felt God as never before, and prayed that she might keep that happy sense of nearness all her life. This is the poem. Surely these lines are good for a girl not quite eleven years old: Silent and sad When all is glad And the earth is dressed in flowers; When the gay birds sing Till the forests ring As they rest in woodland bowers. Oh, why these tears And these idle fears For what may come to-morrow? The birds find food From God so good, And the flowers know no sorrow. THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. ~2~9 If He clothes these, And the leafy trees, Will He not cherish thee? Why doubt His care? It is everywhere, Though the way we may not see. Then why be sad When all is glad And the world is full of flowers? With the gay birds sing, Make life all spring, And smile through the darkest hours. One after another those who had composed the family departed, Mr. Lane and his son going to the Shakers for a while, and afterwards returning to England. Mr. Alcott also, I have been told, was inclined to join the fol- lowers of Ann Lee; but to this Mrs. Alcott utterly refused to agree. An old neighbor once told me that Mrs. Alcott said her hope for her daugh- ters was that they would become wives and mothers; and life among the Shakers was certainly not likely to bring about that happy result. Mr. Alcott grew more and more discour- aged. As his daughter says, he lay down upon his bed and turned his face to the wall, refusing food and drink, and there waited for death to end the struggle. For a while tears and pkading from the faithful wife were of no avail, and she could only cling to the words which ex- pressed the belief of her devout but very incapable husband, The Lord will provide. It would seem that at last some kind angel brought the stricken man to see the selfishness of yielding to despair, when his wife and children were alike suffering and it was his duty to care for them. So ar- rangements were made; and one cold December day the little family left Fruitlandswhich the mother sug- gested might more appropriately have been called Apple Slumpfor a home in the village of Still River, in a part of the house known as the Brick Ends, then owned and partly occupied by J. W. Lovejoy, now the home of Mr. Keyes. To the villagers queer stories had come of the unusual doings of the Transcendentalists. Once, I remem- ber, a strange, long haired man, call- ing himself, I believe, the Angel Gabriel, came into the Still River church and interrupted the service. This, however, may have been later, after Fruitlands had passed into the hands of Joseph Palmer, one of the community, long known from his im- mense beard as the old Jew, who lived in the Fruitlands farmhouse many years and died some twenty-five year~ ago. Even after the chill days of au- tumn and early winter came, Mr. Al- cott wore his linen leggings; but the broad brimmed hats and linen tunics of the little girls were, fortunately for them, supplemented by warmer gar- ments sent by kind friends and rela- tives. With the spring the Still River lit- tle people found their new neighbors a great accession. A May party, with a queen and a Maypole, inaugurated the summers gladnesses. A recent writer has called them sad-faced children. That is a great mistake. Whatever they may have lacked in everyday comforts, they never could have been truly described by such a term. As sure as the sun shone and skies were blue, just so sure was the afternoon gathering on the grass plot in front of the Brick Ends, and jumping rope, tossing ball and roll- ing hoop were enjoyed as never be- fore. Mrs. Alcott was like the guar- dian angel of the merry company, often taking her seat in our midst and smiling benignly upon our gay pranks. In the bright days of summer came the birthday of Lizzie, the Beth of Little Women ; and never shall I forget the proud gladness which filled my childish heart as I went to the party given in honor of the day. Mrs. Lovejoys kitchen was set about with evergreens, and otherwise rendered a fitting stage for the evenings en- tertainment. Her sitting room was the dress circle, while the Alcott sit- ting room was ornamented by a small tree, from the boughs of which hung i8o THE ALCOTTS IN HARVARD. gifts, not only for our small hostess, but for each little friend present. In the adjoining kitchen a table was laden with numerous small cakes and an abundance of luscious cherries, with a big birthday cake in the centre. I cannot recall all the dramatic scenes enacted on the evening, to me so memorable. There was part of an old English play given by the older of the happy party, members of the Al- cott and the neighboring Gardner families. Then- there were songs; and Anna Alcott appeared as a Scotch laddie, in bonnet and plaid. What she recited I have forgotten, though I re- member how pretty she looked. But Louisa was the star of the evening. Her mother had stained her face, arms, neck and ankles to the ruddy hue of an Indian girl; her dress seemed made all of feathers; feathers too crowned her head. Three times, if memories have not proved false, she made her appearance. Once, accord- ing to her own recollection, she sang the then popular song, Wild roved an Indian girl, bright Alfarata. Then erect, solemn as her merry face could become, she strode forward, bearing a large shield, and in almost blood curdling accentsas an old schoolmate describes themrepeated the passage from Ossian beginning, 0 thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ; and again, in softer accents, a poem from one of the school readers, The blackbird was singing on Michigan~s shore, As sweetly and gayly as ever before. It was all so wonderful to us little ones; and I well remember how the next day we looked to see if any rem- nant of the paint was left on Louisa~ s pretty neck and arms. It was a bright, happy summer, and we were all very sorry to have our be- loved playmates go back to Concord. Once, not many years later, Louisa was so anxious to see Still River again that she walked from Concord to visit her friends, the Gardners. She often thought of the summer spent in Still River, as is shown by the use in her stories of the names of people she had known there, and in letters. In one received some thirty years ago, she spoke of what she called the old Still River days as jolly times, and described a mock wed- ding in the wood shed, in which she took the part of bride, with a white apron for a veil, and how she and her newly made husband found their tem- pers did not agree, and so parted. I rather think, she added, my preju- dices in favor of spinsterhood are founded upon that short but tragical experience. Much later, in another letter in which she expressed kindly approbation of a short story I had written for Wide Awake, founded on the little party above described, she again wrote of the happy days spent in Still River. In the chapter of Little Men where Dan tells the story of Marm Webber, Miss Alcott was portraying a real Still River character. On the slope of Prospect Hill there actually lived a Mrs. Webber, whose house was a veritable hospital for homeless and unfortunate cats. Whatever were the old dames faults of temper, she was a true friend to her feline pets, although her putting the hopeless in- valids out of their misery with ether is a touch of Miss Alcotts fancy, since, I believe, that anaesthetic had not then been invented. I well remember how great was the interest felt by old Still River school- mates when, in the Saturday Evening Gazette, articles began to appear writ- ten by the merry girl who had left so strong an impression on our minds. Right proud were we when Little Women followed the pathetic pages of Hospital Sketches; and loyal hearts rejoiced in each later success, and mourned when the life lived so faithfully for others ended so early. A SPEEDY INTERCOLLEGIATE AFFAIR. By Roger Clapp. I. IT was the day after Class Day; and as Harry Matthews settled himself comfortably in the sleeper and stowed his goods and chattels around him, he hoped that it wasnt going to be too hot. I wonder how it will seem to be a senior, he reflected, as the train drew out of the Boston and Albany station. Heigho, only one more year at Cambridge,and then I suppose I shall be chasing the festive dinner-pail in the governors office! Its mighty good of Jack Norton to ask me to come out and visit him. Still, a man who has a couple of sisters like Nortons ought to be good to fel- lows who havent one. I wish it wasnt such a beastly long trip to Chi- cago. The boy came through with the morning papers. Matthews bought one and read all there was about the coming Yale race, which was only two days off; he spent an hour in the smoking car; and then he de- cided to wander through the train to see if there were any one on board whom he knew. He walked for some distance without finding anybody, and on entering the fourth car from his own concluded not to go any fur- ther, but to glance in and then go back. As he looked through the car he noticed that the conductor was standing in front of a young lady, who was talking to him in an anxious and troubled tone; the condttctor seemed to be replying in an extremely surly manner, and Matthews caught the words: Well, I cant do anything but send you back on the next train from Al- bany. Hum, muttered Harry, I won- der what the row is. She is a mighty pretty girl. He took a step down the passage, and started back so suddenly that he almost precipitated himself into an old ladys lap. Great Scott! it cant be Miss Davis of Philadelphia, who was at Bar Harbor last summer yes, it is, by Jove !and Harry had traversed the length of the car and was standing at the girls side in a shorter space of time than it takes to say so. Can I do anything for you, Miss Davis? On hearing her name the girl looked up, and at sight of the young man her face brightened. She gave him a quick smile, though her eyes were filled with tears. Oh, Mr. Matthews, I am so glad to see you! I am in such a scrape! I have lost my pocketbook, and it had my ticket in it and all my money and everything. I am on my way to Chicagoand the conductor says I shall have to go back to Bos- ton; but I cant do that, for I dont know any one in Boston, and the peo- ple I was visiting have gone away and,oh dear! I am sure I dont know [3 [ THE YALE HABIT. 182 THE YALE HABIT. what to do. In her distress and ex- citement she caught hold of Harrys arm and looked up at him appealingly. Oh, that will be all right, said he, I will look after all that for you ~ and, turning to the conductor, he said in as stern a tone as he was able to command: I am in the third car for- ward; I will attend to you later. Then he turned to Miss Davis and, sit- ting down beside her, said lightly: I am sorry you had any trouble with him, Miss Davis ;and I am awfully glad to see you. It is such a long time since last summer! But you were really about the last person I expected to see on this train. It is very fortunate for me, Mr. Matthews, that you came to the rescue just when you did; for I dont think the conductor believed one word I said, and he was going to send me back to Boston in the next train from Albany. I didnt know you had been in Boston, Miss Davis. You might have let me know, I think, said Matthews reproachfully. I havent really been there, after all. You see, I have been on a trip through the Provinces with the Win- throps of Boston,you know them, dont you? I thought you didand instead of going back to Philadelphia I went to Boston with them and started from there for Chicago, where I am trying to go now. VVell, you are all right; I will settle with the conductor, andwhenwe get to Albany I will telegraph back to the station in Boston and see if anything has been found of your pocketbook. Was there much in it ? Yes, said Miss Davis, my ticket, and a check, and thirty or forty dol- lars. I havent a single cent with me. The funny side of it struck her now, and she burst into a clearing laugh, in which Matthews joined. At all events, said he when they had sobered down, you must let me be your banker for a while. Now I will leave you in peace and go and in- terview the conductor. May I have the pleasure of having you dine with me? Suppose we say about one; it is now half-past eleven. Would that suit you? All right. He left the car, followed by the curious and interested glances of about sixteen pairs of eyes. II. After Matthews had left a crisp dol- lar bill in the porters dusky palm, with instructions to look after Miss Davis, he waylaid the conductor, made the first payment for the ladys passage, and added a few pointed re- marks, which left that gorgeous offi- cial in a rather unpleasant frame of mind. Then he sought out the sleep- ing-car conductor, engaged a lower berth for Miss Davis, and paid for it. Well, said he to himself as he went back to his seat, that, with the rail- road fares to come, makes about thirty-two dollars. It is the funniest thing I ever heard of. The girl is ab- solutely dependent on me for her daily bread; she cant get a bite without me. It must be rather an embarrassing sit- uation for her, though. I wonder if she has forgotten all about last sum- mer. Why, I was in love with her then, and she knew it too; and I believe I havent gotten over it yet. Still, I mustnt let her know it now. The affair is bad enough for her any way, and I shall have to make it pass off as easily as I can. Come, brace up, and go and make yourself look pretty, to take her into dinner. Ten minutes later, Harry was sit- ting opposite Miss Davis at one of the small tables in the dining car. The advent of the couple had excited a good deal of curiosity amongthe other diners. One bit of their neighbors dialogue came to them in scraps, which Harry could not help piecing out. Oh, they must be a bridal couple. Just see how radiant the girl is; and no man could look as beaming and happy as he does unless he were on his honeymoon. Yes, aunty, said a girls voice, THE YALE HABIT. 183 they certainly do have an atmosphere of rice and orange blossoms about them. Dont you think so, Dick? Yes, oh, yes, I havent a doubt of it, if you are both agreed; you know so much more about it than I do! Meantime the couple who were ex- citing all this comment were eating their dinner, in apparent unconscious- ness. Their composure was perhaps not quite so genuine as it appeared, there were fluctuating pink streaks on Miss Daviss fair cheeks; but they conversed on the events of the previ- ous summer as if it were the most commonplace, everyday affair for them to be dining, together on a Chi- cago express. At last the dinner was over and paid for. Harry escorted Miss Davis back to her seat, where he remained until he found that his supply of cheerful con- versation was giving out; then he rose arid said that he knew that she wanted to rest, and that he would go back to his own seat. He suggested that, as there was no dining car on the train after three oclock, six might be a good hour for a buffet tea. Miss Davis thought so too; and as Harry handed her her berth check, she gave him a curious, half quizzical, half se- rious glance, which he didnt at all understand, but which gave him some- thing to think about in the smoker that afternoon. They appeared like a newly married pair, he mused. And Miss Davis was charming,~had such a way with her. Did that last look mean that she was interested in him? It seemed something like that; but wasnt it too piquant and deliberate? At all events, he could keep on taking care of her. He would do it right royally; and who knewwho knew So, soon after Albanywhere he had rushed into the station from the train, returning with every magazine and half the new novels he could lay his hands on, for Miss Davishe sought his dependent lady, and made her join him in a sumptuous tea, on which he contrived to expend four dollars and a quarter. Then they chatted for a while, until Harry thought it time to go. He said good night, and arranged that they should breakfast at eight oclock the next morning; whereupon he withdrew to the smoker for a short smoke and a long reverie; and an hour later climbed into his berth and fell asleep and dreamt of pocketbooks, conduct- ors, pretty Philadelphians and huge lunch bills. He awoke at Toledo, dressed himself, and on the platform of the station pur6hased a stack of sweet peas and roses, with some of which he made the waiter decorate the breakfast table, three large bunches being put down at Miss Daviss place for her use and refresh- ment. After breakfast he kept him- self out of the way until they were within a couple of hours of Chicago. Before he appeared, however, he had jotted down some items and had said to himself: This adventure is going to cost me about twenty dollars; but I dont care it is worth it. This all looks rather commonplace; but it isntit is most romantic. Twenty dollars! I have got to win this time; I cant lose again, the way I did last summer. Nevertheless, I am glad I havent any money up on the race. I am sick and tired of losing to those Elis, and Ill never bet a cent against Yale again. With these cheerful reflections he packed up his belongings and rejoined Miss Davis. They had a light buffet lunch, after which Miss Davis said: Now, Mr. Matthews, if you will tell me how much I owe you, and let me have your address in Chicago, I will remit at the earliest opportunity, as they say on bills. All right, Ill jot it down for you. Let me see. I wont count tea and lunch, for I dont know how much they were,and, besides, I must have you for my guest at least once or twice. There, thjrty-two for the fares and berth, and two for the meals. I am getting to feel quite like a hotel keeper. That makes thirty-four; and there is my address at the bottom. I 184 THE YALE HABIT. am afraid we had better be getting ready; we are almost in. In a few minutes the train reached the station. Harry and Miss Davis hurried out with the crowd; and, a few seconds later, Miss Davis flew into the arms of a lady who was waiting to welcome her. In the midst of the shrill sound of escaping steam and the hurry and scurry of the crowd, Harry was presented and escorted the ladies to their carriage. The good byes were said, and the carriage moved swiftly away. Harry picked up his valise, beckoned to a cabman, and was soon rattling off in the opposite direction, toward Jack Nortons. $20! The figures, preceded by the dollar mark, seemed to dance before his eyes. $20! Was there ever a bet- ter investment? That evening, when they had re- turned from the theatre and were standing around watching Jack com- pound a rabbit, Miss Norton said, turning- to her sister: Dorothy, Mrs. Lakeside is to give a reception to-morrow for Miss Davis of Philadelphia. Oh, do you know her, Mr. Matthews? She is visiting here now. By the way, it is out; she has just become engaged to Mr. Courtney, a Yale man. Why, what is the matter, Mr. Matthews ? For Harry, with a smothered exclamation, had sat down, rather suddenly, in the nearest chair. Oh, nothing, he answered with a feeble smile, only I was just think- ing I had lost about twenty dollars to Yale. III. When Harry Matthews woke the next morning, he was very much sur- prised. That is, he was much sur- prised to find that he had slept at all. He had expected to pass a tossing and most unhappy night; and here he had been sleeping soundly ever since his head had touched the pillow. Surely that wasnt right for a man who had just had the cup of happiness dashed from his lips for the second time. He dressed in a melancholy frame of mind, and as he went downstairs he felt absolutely certain that he was the most miserable man in Chicago, and that it would be a long, long time be- fore he would ever laugh again. But at the bottom of the stairs he met Dorothy Norton, looking so happy and so pretty that he smiled in spite of himself. She came towards him, holding out the morning paper. Beaten again! Poor Harvard! By six lengths, too! You dont seem to feel very badly about it. I suppose you get used to that sort of thing after a while. I see you are as bitter a foe to Har- vard as ever, Miss Norton, he said, taking the paper. Oh, yes, rowed a splendid race. We always do. Un- fortunately, however, we lack the Yale habit. The Yale habit? Yes, the habit of winninz. There is a great deal in that. But I am not a foe to Harvard; I am sim- ply a supporter of Yale; there is a great difference. Please remember also that I am not Miss Norton to my friends; I am Dorothy. We used to be great friends two years ago, when I was very small and you were only a freshman; but now you are so old that I am almost afraid of you, said Dorothy with a coquettish glance. I dont believe, said Harry, as they went out to the breakfast room that you were ever afraid of any- thing. At breakfast Harry learned that they were all to leave Chicago that afternoon for the Michigan Country Club, which is on the lake some forty miles from Chicago, where the Nor- tons had a country house. Before he departed on the trip, he sent a large bunch of flowers to Miss Davis, with a short note saying how sorry he was not to have the chance to call, and hoping that she was none the worse for her journey. It took him so long to compose this apparently simple note that he almost lost the train. As THE YALE HABIT. 185 it was, he arrived just at the last mo- ment, with a number of excuses, which Miss Norton graciously accepted be- cause they were very good ones. Harry had the seat next to Dorothy in the train and as soon as he was comfortably settled she leaned over and said: Those were beautifully invented excuses; but would you mind gratify- ing my feminine curiosity by telling me what you really were doing the last three hours ? From you, your Imperious High- ness, I have no secrets, replied Harry, I was sending some flowers to my own funeral. At which inno- cent remark Miss Dorothy got angry, and refused to say another word for some fifteen minutes. The life they led at the Country Club was very pleasant. The com- pany of young people was large there were both Harvard and Yale boys in it; and their intimacy was tinged with that western informality which, mixed with good breeding, makes the most agreeable atmos- phere in the world. As the Nortons guest, Harry was received with cor- dial hospitality. He saw a good deal of Dorothy; but one day it dawned on him that he didnt see as much of her as he would like to, for the ob- vious reason that a certain Phil Rogers monopolized an atrociously great deal of her time. Harry was particularly struck by this idea one sunny morning, some ten days after his arrival, and he wondered why it had never occurred to him before. He was sitting on the piazza, smok- ing a cigarette, and saw Dorothy drive off in her dogcart with Phil Rogers. She turned, smiled and waved her hand to him; and it sud- denly occurred to Harry that he would like to be in a dogcart himself. He didnt see any reason why Rogers, who was a typical Yale man, big, easy mannered, yellow haired, should go with her so much. Then he won- dered why he had never before noticed how pretty she was. He had noticed, to be sure, that she was pretty,but not how pretty, how ex- tremely, awfully, irresistibly, incom- parably pretty. The cigarette and his lassitude were pitched away together and in a moment. An hour later he had demanded and secured the seat beside her for the next days drive, which goes to show that Harry Mat- thews was being rapidly cured of one light disorder and was ready to be the victim of another of perhaps a more serious type. Harry and Dorothy got on fa- mously together; and at the end of a week Phil Rogers found himself a very poor second. He had some con- solation, however, for he met Mat- thews in the finals of the tennis tournament and much enjoyed beat- ing the Harvard men three straight sets, the match having assumed some- what of an intercollegiate air. Dor- othy took this occasion to give Harry a long lecture on the loss of the Har- vard spirit and the consequent supe- riority of Yale. In spite of himself he was irritated and a little hurt, with the result of a slight refrigeration of his manner towards her, which lasted about fifteen minutes, at the end of which time he meekly said: Dorothy, you are mistaken. I tell you again the Harvard spirit is splendid; but the Yale habit is too much for it. It was in the early part of August that the great baseball game was played, the Country Club meeting their old antagonists, the Lakeshore Club. Harry had been on his class team at Harvard, and was asked to play at shortstop for the Country Club. Phil Rogers played first base, and Jack Norton caught. It was one of the chief incidents of the season. The papers called it the social event of the summer. Harry drove Dor- othy out to the ball field in the dog- cart; indeed, no one else would have thought of doing that now. Matthews was the only Harvard man on the nine and his crimson jersey and stockings were conspicu- ous. He played a good, steady game, i86 THE YALE HABIT. made a couple of base hits and no errors. Once he and iRogers effected a very neat double play, which brought them a round of applause. The game was interesting until the last half of the ninth inning was reached, and then the interest became intense and the situation dramatic. The score was nine to seven in favor of the Lakeshorers, and the Country Club came in to bat for the last time. They had two of their men put out al- most immediately. Then they batted vigorously and filled the bases. Finally Harry Matthews came to the bat. He had never been so nervous in his life, not even when he played against the Yale Freshmen. The crowd was absolutely still; one could hear the horses champing at their bits. There were three men on bases, and it would take only two runs to tie the score, three to win; but one more fail- ure would be defeat. Harry struck at the first ball and missed it. Then he had two balls given him. The next ball pitched was a slow drop curve. He hit at it fiercely, viciously, furi- ously. The ball rose feebly into the air and was easily caught by the short- stop. Harry climbed into the dogcart be- side Dorothy, and they started for home. For a while neither of them spoke. Harry was trying to find out why it was that he felt so badly. There was nothing so terrible about losing a game, and he had done his best. Suddenly it flashed over him, and he turned to the girl at his side. Dorothy, he said quietly, I know why it is that II hate so to lose to-day. It is because I love you. The girl glanced up at him with a mischievous smile. Have you just found that out ? said she. I knew it some time ago. It had begun to drizzle. Harry helped Dorothy to put on his huge red sweater with p on the front. I hope you dont object to wear- ing a Harvard sweater now? said he. Not when its owner has the Yale habit, she replied. The Yale habit ? he asked ab- sent-mindedly; he was taking a long time adjusting the sweater. Why, yes, the habit of winning. You taught me that, dear. Iv. On the night of the ball game there was a dance at the Club Casino, and every one was there. Harry Mat- thews stood near the door smiling happily; for Phil Rogers had just taken Dorothy away from him and was waltzing with her. Poor devil ! thought Harry, I suppose he will be terribly cut up about it. Well, it will do him heaps of good. But I mustnt stand grin- ning like this. I wish I covdd go somewhere and shout at the top of my lungs. I have just got to tell some- body all about it. But we havent told the family yet, so of course I cant tell any of these people around here. I am going outside. Dorothy wont give me another dance till the very last one; I have had five already. He walked through the hall out on the piazza; then he lighted a ciga- rette, strolled around the corner and sat down on the railing. There was a charming view of the lake in the moonlight, the shower having passed. Harry wondered why nobody had taken advantage of this secluded spot, for there were two chairs there and it was certainly a most inviting place. He wished Dorothy were with him. Suddenly a young man came around the corner of the piazza and ex- claimed: Oh, here you are, Matthews. II have been looking for you every- where. Wont you go in and dance with Miss Davis? Shes a mighty nice girl ,here with Mrs. Lakeside. Why, certainly, said Harry. I know Miss Davis, but I didnt know she was here. She came with the Lakesides; they arrived this afternoon. But, if you know her I wont wait; you just go and dance with her; and he disap~ peared. THE YALE HABIT 187 The whirligig of time brings in its revenges, quoted Harry thought- fully, as he threw away his cigarette and went in. He found Miss Davis talking with Jack Norton, but she didnt see him till he came up and said: May I have this dance, Miss Davis? Why, Mr. Matthews ! she ex- claimed; and then, for no apparent reason, she blushed. Neither of the men noticed it, however, and in a moment she and Harry were whirling down the room. Subsequently she found herself seated in a chair beside Harry, looking at the moonlight on the lake. Then, suddenly, she was sorry she had come, for Harry was gazing out at the water with a deter- mined look on his face. He had evi- dently decided on something very important. Oh! I have got to stop him, she thought, or he will be doing some- thing foolish. I must tell him of my engagement. Oh, dear! I ought to have known better than to come out here. Then she began: Mr. Mat- thews, I But Harry turned around suddenly and interrupted her. Look here, said he, I have got to tell you something; I cant keep it to myself any longer. I know you will understand how i[ feel,and I cant tell any of these people here. You see,J am engaged to Dorothy Norton. Miss Davis sat absolutely still. Her hands were pressed tightly together. Oh, I beg your pardon, Harry went on, I should have congratu- lated Mr. Courtney first, I suppose; but I knew you would sympathize with me now. Then Miss Davis burst into a laugh. I do, I do, she cried I congratulate you. But, Mr. Mat- thews, would you mind telling me how long you have known of my en- gagement? Oh, about two months. You know you mustnt say anything about ours; its not out yet. Just then, strangely enough, Dor- othy Norton and Mr. Courtney came around the corner of the piazza to- gether. I am so glad to see you, Miss Davis, said Dorothy, coming for- ward. I was extremely sorry to miss you in town, Miss Norton. Arthur, do you know Mr. Matthews? How do you do, Mr. Courtney? said Harry, holding out his hand. I have been waiting for about two months for a chance to congratulate you. I suppose it is always proper to congratulate a Yale man on his luck. Thank you. But I am afraid we never wholly deserve our luck; like reading and writing, it comes by na- ture. The music for the last dance began, and as the two couples separated at the door Miss Davis glanced back with a smile and said: I am afraid I shall never quite forgive you, Mr. Matthews. Why, what for, Miss Davis? For my own stupidity. A woman can never forgive that, you know. I wonder what she meant by that, said Harry. Oh, I dont know, replied Dor- othy. I suppose you dont mind dancing this, even if it is the Yale Two-Step ? It seems to me, said Harry, that I have been dancing a Yale two-step for the past three months. But I have no desire to stop now, for, at last, I have the Yale habit, I think. Dorothy, sweetest,quick, while no- body is looking! Yes, I have ac- quired the Yale habitperfectly, I am sure. THE SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS. By Edward F. Fressey. HE old New England system of managing schools was in this wise: A prudential or business committee was appointed by each district in which a school was kept. An average township was five or six miles square and maintained from six to fourteen large and small schools. A general or superintending committee of three persons, and in later years of one, was appointed by the town. The ministers and other well read and posted citizens naturally served on this committee sometimes year after year for a generation. Later still the district system was abolished in one state after another, and with it the old system of superintendency. All has been put into the hands of a school board of three, who may be men or women. The school board is now practically a business committee for the town, as the prudential committee was formerly for the district, and nothing more. And now I have ar- rived at my tale. An economical system of profes- sional superintendency has been worked out throughout much of the land. In many of the western states they have a uniform system of county superintendents. In New England, among old shifting institutions, there is less uniformity. We have an op- tional system of town superintend- ency. Several small towns may club together to employ a professional su- perintendent of schools. Beacon Hills had clubbed together with Dell, Mountain and Florida for such a circuit rider. The new superintendent was a man with a history such as a true born \Tankee loves to bear. He was bred ,88 on a farm in a quiet hill town of New Hampshire. That did two things for him; it made his wits as lithe as a cat let the social philosophers tell why; and it trained him to work, without haste, without rest, so that, if to work is to pray, he literally fulfilled the apostles injunction, Pray without ceasing, and must have been a very pious man in the good sense of the word. He had taught school at seven- teen and entered college at twenty, after various book canvassing and peddling escapades that had some- times netted him cash and sometimes experience. The college was one of those excellent and accommodating old New England ones that let him out ten weeks every winter to teach school; and so, by more schemes than can be written in a book, he paid his way through college. Then he gath- ered an impromptu Latin school in a remote Maine village, and for two dollars a month each taught twenty or more boys and girls, in the dull sea- son of the winter, the rudiments of everything, from algebra and physics to Greek. After a winter or two of this work, he paid his cilina mater five dollars, and added A. M. to the first proud A. B. after his name. Then he got a call to higher things. An old established academy absorbed his masterful services, to develop a new chemical laboratory and to instruct youth in six or seven miscellaneous subjects, as a departmental teacher. After a year of this he was elected principal of a high school in a lovely village of central Massachusetts. Here he got the benefit of conven- tions and institutes, pedagogical conferences and educational litera- ture, and came out after a number of years a sober theorist with the whole- THE SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS. some light of the future in his eye and by training a thoroughly practical educator of New England youth. The town of Dell was at the centre of the district. Here the superintend- ent had his home and office, where he could look upon the everlasting hills that stood about like the mountains round about Jerusalem and dream of the little district schools up there, where everlasting springs of sound nerves and sense and courage abide. This territory was cut into four moun- tain regions, sundered by precipitous river gorges a thousand feet deep. This mans head might have been said to be in the clouds; for the week long he was riding after his little black mare one thousand to nineteen hun- dred feet above sea level. I knew one who had often accom- panied him, summer and winter, over these mountains, visiting the remote district schools; and even a humdrum day on the rounds was a matter of in- terest to one who believes in the hon- est efforts of ones fellow mortals. Mr. Ward was just hitching the little black mare to the United States flagstaff at the corner of the yard of the old gray schoolhouse, when a dozen boys and girls, of all sizes and ages from two years old up to seven- teen, burst out for a fifteen minutes recess. Good afternoon, children, he said in a cheerful, strong voice, as he gath- ered the last hitch in the halter. Good afternoon, Mr. Ward, re- turned every child, in tones and man- ner of the utmost good will and pleas- ure at seeing him. One or two quite small children and one older boy rushed ahead of him into the school- room out of breath, to say: Teacher, Mr. Ward has come. The teacher was glad to tell him how John had im- proved in the perpendicular hand, and had the samples out in a minute to show him. Kate had taken won- derfully to drawing of late, and she had some wonderfully natural sketches to exhibit. Herman had at last mastered every one of the Miscel laneous Problems in arithmetic. Little Thomas had overcome an impediment in reading, according to Mr. Wards suggestion of a method some months before. Isabelle was thinking more before making her answers to ques- tions. The system of grading and ranking was making the pupils in general more ambitious as well as more tidy and accurate in their work. Just then the teacher rang the little hand bell, which sounded out cheer- fully from the door across the flowery runs and upland pastures. The chil- dren in a few moments came trooping in steadily to the few measures of a song struck by the teacher upon the organ. Then, without turning to music books nor any moving about from their seats, they sang a happy song they had committed to memory; and in five minutes every child was working hard at his lessons. When the classes came out some- times the superintendent at his discre- tion taught the class as he thought it should be done. Gently he corrected the serious habitual faults only, some- times calling the smaller children to him, putting his arm around them. quickly drawing out their confidence and the root of their difficulty, while the teacher went on with the class. From the older pupils he drew out logical thinking and held them firmly to it; and when he saw a boy or girl squirming and cramped in the narrow confines of a text-book, when their minds could hungrily grasp a world of ideas, he dropped larger sugges- tions, and even the next time brought them larger books to read. School was over in no time. After school many of the children gathered round Mr. Ward for a personal word of encouragement, advice or friend- ship, which was all given in the sim- plest, frankest, most fatherly manner. Then a warm-hearted good by was said by everybody who had lingered: and Mr. Ward set the little black n1ares head homeward, twelve miles distant, down mountain and gorge 190 THE SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS. threaded by streams and spouting tor- rents. Once a term, at least, the superin- tendent of schools held a meeting of all his teachers at Dell. On these oc- casions, besides the addresses on par- ticular educational topics by experts from outside of the district, the best samples of work by teachers and pu- pils in the district were represented, often by those teachers appearing with their pupils in person. The little mountain school of eight or ten pupils never after occasions like these seemed small or unimportant to any of its members; for they were members of the great school of twenty-five dis- tricts, as many teachers and four hun- dred pupils in Dell, Mountain, Florida and Beacon Hills. Then Mr. Ward started a little high school at Dell. Every pupil could manage in some way to board himself or earn his board, find get home Fri- day nights, so as to help mother with the Saturday baking or father at the wood pile; and all could appear as a family in their accustomed places at church the year round. This enabled many a farmers son and daughter to get the sound rudiments of a higher education, who would otherwise have struggled hard to attain it or have been discouraged. Burt, best of all, it did not associate inevitably grasp and knowledge with city ways and feel- ings. It did not break with many so ruthlessly and everlastingly the tradi- tions of the old farm house and the loyal country life. The third of February the thermom- eter stood fourteen degrees below zero at eight oclock. Mr. Ward appeared before the parsonage door in Beacon Hills with an ulster and a buffalo on, and icicles pending from the corners of his mustache. The little black mare was sheathed in a crystallized film of hoar frost and the frozen vapor of her nostrils. It was eight miles to Dell. The su- perintendent was on his way to the Mountain schools, seven miles farther, for a days work. The ministers fain- ily was just finishing breakfast. The minister was going with Mr. Ward to inspect the Mountain system of schools, to compare with those of Bea- con Hills. The superintendent was a prompt man; but it would hurt Mrs. Barbers feelings for a man to drive on in that frost after sniffing the parson- age fire without a cup of smoking cof- fee. Then in five minutes theywereoff. Twenty minutes more, and they were climbing out of the settlement up the northward slopes of the town through the unbroken drifts of last evenings tempest. The little black mare struggled bravely till the cutter slumped down on the soft side of a drift and overturned the minister and the superintendent of schools in a shallow ravine or roadside water course. After that, for a half-mile stretch to the height of land, the mm- ister preferred to wade ahead in his hip boots and break a path for the horse, while the superintendent hung to the bridle and piloted sleigh and horse through drifts of unfathomed depth. From the height of the road, eigh- teen hundred feet above the sea, they could see the morning sun lighting up with a dazzling purity the southerly domes and walls of the Green Moun- tains. Over there less than ten leagues lay, or rather floated in the crystal air, upon crystal blue and green foundations, the enchanted land. Just a moment the three paused in the keen, quiet, sunlit air, to breathe,the animal sensing the glory of the mountain-top vision with a vague, alert stare and sniffing. Then they took a long plunge deep into a river valley a mile and a half below. The road at this season was little more than a deeply rutted tim- ber slide, sheeted at intervals with ice from the unruly mountain springs and torrents that broke from their ice- cloaked beds. Every second rod of progress was a plunge down over an ambitious water bar of last summers construction. After a mile of this they sighted below, perched a hundred THE SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS. 9 feet above the river bed upon a moun- tain shelf, the mining village of Moun- tain. Farther in among the trees to the west they could see the red-shaft building of the emery mines and could distinctly hear the booming of the great pump. A little later they had crossed the iron trestle over the narrow gorge twenty feet above the stream and were entering the village. Itwas a model village of some thirty houses, a mansion or two for the proprietors, a wayside inn, an electric railroad sta- tion, and a handsome public building with a high native limestone base- ment. This contained the town hall, public offices and a roughly graded school. This was Mr. Wards first station. Here the minister found a model primary school of fresh looking chil- dren of a number of nationalities. There was a teacher who could hardly have been excelled anywhere. She had studied in the best schools and understood the little ones like a book. There was little apparent work here for the time being, for the superintendent of schools, except to rake after with some important over- looked odds and ends of education. For example, there were five pupils who had learned reading by the word method, who had slipped by the alphabet and could not say it in order, so as to use a dictionary intelligently. 1 his was put in the way of correction, along with one or two other small matters. In the grammar department of the same school, the alphabet test was also applied, and a number of pupils more found who fingered the dictionary wildly to find words. Some drawing and composition works were exchanged with other schools of the district, which led to a wholesome emulation. One boy had to confer with the teacher and superintendent about his Latin, anticipating a year of high school work; and he received some sensible and inspiring advice from one of wider experience with life and education than the teacher could possibly have had. Dinner was had at the wayside inn. Before one oclock they were climb- ing into the heart of the Hoosacs, up, up, up, as if the grade might go on at that rate till sunset. At last they found themselves on the piercingly cold windy eastern rim of a crater-like valley in the very heart and on the very summit of Mountain. They passed a deserted dark schoolhouse at a desolate crossroads, forlornly buried to its chin in a drift, since the great forest opposite was cleared away and presented only its lonely acres of black stump land. A few miles farther was a sawmill settlement beside a small, mad stream. There was a post office in a private house, where also resided the justice of the peace and chairman of the school board, who also furnished four of the seven pupils of the school hard by under the beech woods. Here was an interesting state of things, in the Mill district school. The teacher was a graduate of Smith Col- lege, I believe. She was paid ten dol- lars a week to teach this most remote of Massachusetts winter schools. The daughter of the justice of the peace was turned fifteen, and had finished Beginners Latin and was contem- plating the beginning of Greek, had mastered Civil Government from a va- viety of text-books, could sketch the mountains and brooks round about from nature like an accomplished amateur, and had taken some discur- sive flights into logarithms and plane trigonometry. She had read through all the family bookcases in the neigh- borhood, which happened to contain Miltons Paradise Lost, Thomsons Seasons, the Life of Mrs. Judson, the missionary to Burmah, the Au- t6biography of Charlotte Elizabeth, Bringing in the Sheaves (a book of evangelists sermons and anecdotes), Jerusalem Delivered, Shakespeare (printed in one volume, two columns, diamond type), the English Bible (ditto), a dozen ponderous subscrip- tion books of travel, biography, his- tory and literary hash, the poems of :92 THE SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS. Thomas Hood, Whittier and Long- fellow, besides a medical work called The Family Physician, a book on bees, and the National Gazetteer out of date fifty years ago. In this school was also a much overgrown boy (of indefinite age so far as one could tell) who was working out the Latin language by painfully sure steps. A little girl of seven, not at all troubled with the nerves or any queerness of a precocious child, was reading with expression in the third reader. There was a bashful girl of twelve, who the teacher said was a good scholar in her written exercises, but it was always impossible for her to recite well. These with two or three other ordinary appearing children made up the school. After four oclock the winter twi- lig4ht swept down suddenly among the mountains. The little black mare was headed for home. The keen frost of the morning had disappeared in the noonday sunshine. With the evening shades an icy north wind came down in its stead. When the moon came up, as they climbed the long mountain south again, all was dreary with the sweeping cold. The blood chilled rapidly in ones feet; the fingers and ears began to freeze. One did not care any longer to talk philosophy. Between banging ones toes and fin- gers and rubbing ones muffled ears, one settled into a dumb, stoical mood and dreamed of a seat behind the kitchen range and of hot beef soup. So it went for blank miles, without a word, till the summit was reached and the village lights of Beacon Hills came into view. At the parsonage elm, Mr. Ward discovered that his windward cheek was frozen stiff; but he only washed it in cold snow water to take out the sting and pushed on for his own fire- side in Dell, where he probably ar- rived by eight oclock if he was not stuck before that in a drift. In the spring and fall seasons every school in all the hills was in full ses- sion. Each school in turn had to be visited regularly at least once a month. Then it was that every boy and girl who was able was urged by persuasive means, of which the superintendent was past master, to do his best and reach that term some landmark in his or her education. The little black mare was scudding from school to school, day in and day out. The mornings were long and the evenings were often late. Like an active gen- eral, the superintendent was straight- ening up the waving lines in every direction. The rolls of attendance and punctuality were to be compared be- tween different schools. Soldier-like pride in regularity and precision was to be idealized and instilled. And so twenty-five schools in rapid succes- sion caught the step, were fired with the same enthusiasm,and there were no more little lifeless, un- interesting schools, for they were all one. But the superintendent of schools met his Waterloo at last. There were those who did not appreciate mod- ern education; so after his three years of trial, with such results as I have faithfully indicated, he was voted down by a narrow majority in two of the towns. The other two could not maintain the superintendency alone; and the schools of those regions for a time lapsed into their old-time deadness and hit-or-miss existence, with no stimulating connection with the great outside world. A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS, FOR BOYS, BY BOYS. COTTAGE ROW AT THOMPSON~S ISLAND. By Ma.v Bennett Thrasher. Illustrated chiefly from photographs taken hy the Farm School hoys. C ONSPICIJOUS on the high and development, this sketch of the ground of Thompsons Island, Thompsons Island boys government the passenger on one of the perhaps the pioneer experiment of steamers or sailing craft which thread the kind, and certainly one of the most the more shallow channels of Boston unique and successfulhas been pre- Harbor may see a row of neatly paint- pared. A brief account of the early ed, diminutive cottages, Which almost history of the school is prefaced, and invariably attract attention. If the ob- a general description of its work is server takes the trouble to make in- introduced as explanatory and inter- quiry of almost any one connected esting. The writer was for nearly two with the navigation of the harbor, he years connected with the school, and is told that the little settlement is that has therefore had a better opportunity ere boys village which the Farm to study the life there than that which School boys have built and govern. any temporary examination would If his informant is a man who has give. been long at his work, he usually Nearly every one who sees the adds: The first houses of the village buildings of the Farm School rising were built more than ten year ago, an from among the beautiful trees which it has been kep up ever sence. Folks surround them on Thompsons Island say its mighty interestin to visit. Ive thinks of the school as one of the always meant to stop there some day an citys departments. In fact visitors to see it, but Ive never got round to it. the school itself sometimes come with For the benefit of those who, like the same impression. This is entire- this man, have always meant to visit ly incorrect. The Farm School is Cottage Row, as the settlement is wholly a private charity, incorporated named, but have not got round to and managed as such, and going back it, and of others who may be inter- for its beginning to as early a date as ested in the problems of child study 1814. 93 THE PILGRIM. A GOT FRNMENT OF BOYS. The Boston Asylum for indigent Boys was j~corporated in i814, among the persons named in the act of incorporation being William Phil- lips, James Lloyd William Sullivan, Benjamin Green and Samnel Hi. Wal ley. Not long after the incorporatioi~ the trustees pnrchased the large estate on the corner of Salem and Chatter streets, in Boston formerly the home of the colonial governor~ Sir William Phipps. The house was a large brick strncture and its spacious apartments~ which in olden times had witnessed the pomp of royalty, furnished ample accommodations as a home for a char- ity which had for its object relieving, ~~structing and employing indigent boys. In 1832, John Tappan, John D. Williams, Samuel T. armstrong and others associated with them organ- ized what was to be known as the Boston Farm School Society. One year later this society was incorpo- rated and purchased Thompsons Is- land, in Boston Ic-larbor, for $6,000. A building to accommodate the school was at once erected, under the imme- diate supervision of John D. Williams, who from the first took great interest in the p~deIitaking The purpose of the school, as set forth at that time, was the education of boys belonging to the city of Boston, who, from ex- ~~aordinary exposure to moral evil, reonire peculiar provision for the formin~, of their character and for pro- moting and 5ecuring the usefulness and happiness of their lives, and who have not yet fallen into those crimes which require the interP05itiO~, of the law to punish or restrain them. Two years later, these two corp0rations~ feeling that each possessed ~~vantages which the other did not enjoy and that their interests were practically the same, were united by an act of the Legislature and became the Boston Asylum and Farm School for Indigent Boys. Such is briefly the history of the ~0~e~training school for boys, popu- larly known as the Farm School, and A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. 95 \VhiCh now ha~ been established for over sixty years in its present location. During this time the management of the school has been in the hands of men who have been among the most distinguished citizens of Boston, men remarkable not only for their interest in philanthropic work but for their ability in business and professional life. The former presidents of the cor- poration have been Samuel T. Arm- strong, Jonathan Phillips, Theodore Lyman, Henry B. Rogers, J. Inger- soll Bowditch, Theodore Lyman, Jr., and Charles P. Bowditch. Among the men who have served upon the suc- cessive Boards of Management, many of them for a great many years, have been Francis Parkman, John D. Wil- liams, Thomas B. Curtis, S. E. Green, George Darracott, Moses Grant, Wil- liam Gray, John Tappan, Joseph Tuck- erman, Samuel Torrey, Charles Wells, Charles C. Paine, Thomas G. Cary, Benjamin A. Gould, William H. Pres- cott, Henry B. Rogers, Henry Upham, Edward S. Rand, George H. Kuhn, Jonathan Chapman, Elijah Cobb, Ab- bott Lawrence,James C.Wild, Francis 0. Watts, Frederick T. Gray, Henry Edwards, Lewis G. Pray, Joseph F. Bumstead, Cyrus A. Bartol, John J. Dixwell, Samuel looper, George Bemis, Richard W. Bayley, Robert C. Waterston, Jr., Samuel E. Brackett, Jesse Bird, Francis Bacon, Charles H. Mills, G. Howland Shaw, Charles Amory, William Appleton, Jr., Fran- cis C. Manning, Robert B. Storer,, William Perkins, James H. Beal, Aaron D. Weld, Martin Brimmer, Theodore Lyman, Russell Sturgis, Jr., John L. Emmons, Samuel Eliot, Stephen H. Bullard, Charles E. Guild, William L. Richardson, Charles L. Young, Henry L. Higginson, John A. Blanchard, Alanson Bigelow, John Homans, Stephen G. Deblois, William Brandt Storer, Howard Stockton, Charles P. Bowditch, Arthur Dexter, George A. Gardner, E. Francis Par- ker, Robert H. Gardiner, James S. Russell, Otis K. Newell, Alexander S. Wheeler and William F. Wharton. The management of the school as at present constituted is as follows: President, Richard M. Saltonstall; Vice-President, Eben Bacon; Treas- urer, Alfred Bowditch; Secretary, Tucker Daland; Managers, I. Tucker Burr, Jr., Caleb A. Curtis, Charles P. Curtis, Jr., J. D. Williams French, Henry S. Grew, John Homans, 2d, M. D., Walter Hunnewell, Francis Shaw, John E. Thayer, Thomas F. Temple; Superintendent, Charles H. Bradley. Thompsons Island is about three miles from the foot of State Street, and a little more than one mile from City Point, South Boston. It is divided from Squantum, a part of Quincy, by a channel twelve hundred feet in width, through which a swift current runs with the tide. It is next to the largest island in the harbor, containing one hundred and fifty-seven acres, and, on account of the height to which the surface rises and the number of trees, is very generally acknowledged to be the most beautiful island. At the point where the main buildings are located, the land is sixty-five feet above mean high water. In Nathaniel Bradstreet Shurtleffs Topographical and Historical Description of Boston is this quaint description of the island: On the southwest side is (was) a salt water pond of several acres, into which once flowed a creek that in an- cient times was dignified by the name of river. Thompsons Island Bar, which projects towards Squantum, has long been a noted locality for its deli- cious clams. The form of the island as shown on the charts is very much like that of a young unfledged chicken, looking towards the east, the northeast part representing the head and bill of the bird and the bar, which extends towards Squantum, the legs and feet; the portion of the island where the wharf is situated forms the back. By keeping this fanciful form in mind the figure of the island will be remem- bered. Deep water lies to the north and west, shoal water to the east and south. 196 A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. The pond to which the historian refers has now been reclaimed from the sea bymeans of adike,alongwithsome other low parts of the island, drained, and converted into grass land. Shurt- leff goes on to say that the first men- tion of this island is found in the Colonial Records of Massachusetts of 1634-5, in these words: Tompsons Island is graunted to the inhabitants of Dorchestr to enjoy to them, their heires & successors wch shall inhabite there, forener, payeing the yearely rent of xij d to the tresurer for the time being. jDorcbester, says Shurtleff, voted, May 20, 1639, that a rent of twenty pounds a year should be charged for the island, to be paid by the tenants towards the maintenance of a school, in Dorchester, this rent to be pajy to snch a schoolemaster as shall vndertake to teach English, Lat- me and other tongues, and also writ- ing. The schoolmaster was to be chosen from time to time by the free- men, but it xv~is left to the discretion of the Elders and the Sevenmen for the time being to decide whether maydes shalbe taught wth the boyes or not. So early, comments the his- torian, had the community an eye to the propri- ety of mixed schools. Afterwards the town had diffi- culty in collect- ing the rent, and in 1641-2 pro- vided that there should be but ten tenants on the island at any one time. In 1648, John Thompson, son and heir of David Thomp- son, laid claim to the island, and the town lost it. In the Colonial Rec- ords, under date of May JO, 1648, is this record: It appeares that David Thomson in or about the yeare 1626 did take actuall possession of an iland in the Massachusetts Bay & did erect there the form of a habitation. Dor- chester made claim to the island again in 1650. John Thomson brought as proof the affidavits of William Tre- yore, William Blaxton, Miles Stand- ish and the Sagamore of Agawam. These show that, soon after the settle- ment of Plymouth, Captain Standish and others, among whom was the sailor William Trevore, who came over in the Mayflower, visited Boston Harbor. Trevore took possession of this island under the name of the Island of Trevor, for Mr. David Thomson, then of London. Mr. Thomson obtained a grant of the land by patent, before he arrived, of the Massachusetts Company. Mr. Blax- ton, who is well known as the reputed first European resident upon the peninsular part of Boston, knew Mr. David Thomson personally, and was acquainted with the island and its use. He says that hogs were pastured upon it. Shurtleff says that at that time there was no evidence that Indians INDIAN RELIC5 FOUND BY THE BOYS ON THOMPSONS ISLAND. A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. 97 bad ever dwelt there or claimed the island; but for many years now the boys at work upon the tillage land have been in the habit of finding a great many Indian relics in the shape of stone arrowheads, hammers and similar utensils. Many of these are in excellent condition. Mr. Bradley, the present superintendent of the school, has a considerable collection of these relics which the boys have found and brought to him. The Sagamore, in the affidavit which has been mentioned, refers to the river on the island, and says that Mr. Thomson, who had lived for a time on the Piscataqua River, left Maine and came here because he liked the island. An Indian named Winnuequassam laid claim to the island in 1654, and was allowed a trial, but his claim was denied. Shurtleff says that Mr. Thomson probably settled on the island in 1626, as the Colonial Records mention him as a resident there that year. This island always remained private property. By an act of the Legislature of March 25, 1834, after it had been purchased for the school, it was set off from Dor- chester and annexed to Boston. The Farm School is limited to one hundred pupils. Boys are taken be- tween the ages of ten and fourteen years, and retained until they graduate from the school department, the train- ing there being equivalent to that of the best grammar schools. At the same time they are taught to work, the aim being to fit them so that when they are old enough to go out into the world they will be fitted to meet and grapple with the problems which life will present. As soon as is practicable after graduation, places are found for them in offices, stores, shops or on farms, according as their training or natural ability seem to make most de- sirable. Boys who have committed crime or are what may be termed bad boys are not received. The Farm School is in no sense a reform school, BOYS GARDENS AND INDUSTRIAL BUILDINGS. 198 A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. and a dozen other games came and went, the one in- terest which never flagged was that in Cottage Row, the city of play- honses which the boys have built, care for, own and govern. Each election for mayor, aldermen, chief of police and other officers is jnst as warmly contested as the last, and when a boy leaves the school, he never has any trouble in finding some younger boy to bny his shares in his cottage, while political aspirants for such official positions as he may have held spring np as suddenly as they do in larger municipalities. but rather a home training school for The settlement originated in this the boys who are nnder its care. way. Dnring the summer of i888 the These are usnally orphans, or the sons boys were given some pieces of cast- of widows who from force of circum- off bedticking to play with. A stances are unable to provide a home chance snggestion xvas made that for some or all of their children. these wonld make good tents. The In addition to the regnlar conrse of suggestion was adopted, and several study there is a manual training tents were set up, each being owned course, which includes mechanical and occupied usually by a number of drawing, carpentry, wood turning and boys. Scattered at first irregularly carving, blacksmithing and printing, over the campus, the tents were event-- All the boys are in turn employed nally arranged in a row at the north upon the farm for a considerable por- end, and all through the summer this tion of the time they are at the school, was the favorite part of the play- obtaining from this and from the use ground. As the cold weather of of the boats, which they are constantly autumn came on, the boys were so re- taught to use and manage, the very luctant to abandon their little homes best physical exercise. In addition, all that they utilized pieces of boards to u turn perform some part of the make them habitable as long as possi- household duties, including cooking, ble. This gave some of the boys an baking, making and mending clothes, idea to be acted on another season, and laundry work. The boys have the and when the spring of iS8q opened freedom of a campus several acres iii some of the most enterprising planned extent and a large and thoroughly to erect a wooden cottage. With the equipped gymnasium, assistance of the superintendent, mate- There is no instinct stronger in the rial was obtained and the house was minds of children than that of imita- built. Others followed, and from this tion, and no amusement more univer- beginning the present city has devel- sal and enduring than that of play- oped. The fact that all of the boys lug house. My observations at who are old enough take the schools Thompsons Island led me to believe course in manual training makes it that, while baseball and football, King possible for them to do all of the work Philip, tag, quoits, bows and marbles themselves. In 1891 it was decided to STREET IN COTTAGE ROW. A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. 99 be best to limit the number of cot- tages to twelve, the possession of each cottage being divided into twelve shares. Certificates of ownership were given for these shares, transferable through the Farm School Bank. This bank has been a regular feature of the school for some time. The boys de- posit in it whatever money they may earn or have given them, and are paid interest on deposits above a certain amount. Each boy has his own ban book and is furnished deposit slips and checks. If he wishes to buy anything or to pay out money for any purpose, he draws his check as any other busi- ness man would do. Mock deeds of the cottage lots are given to the pro- prietors. The plan seemed to work so favorably that in 1893 the superin- tendent of the school issued the fol- lowing proclamation: PROCLAMATION. To the inhabitants of Thompsons Island: The playground settlement shall he known as Cottage Row. The government organized by the property owners shall be for the general protection, advancement of good order, adjustment of individual rights, and to as- sist in teaching the duties of citizenship. All matters pertaining to Cottage Row and its government shall be entitled to and given the same respect as is due other branches of the school work. The officers of the cottage government consisting of board of aldermen (.~), clerk (i), police (3), street commissioner (i), and jury (5), shall perform their duties with the dignity becoming officers in such positions. The board of aldermen may elect a janitor for the Cottage Row Hall and Club House, and a director for the Natural His- tory room. The property owners shall respect and obey their superiors in said government, but when circumstances warrant may ap- peal to the officer in charge, or to the Su- perintendent as in other matters. CHARLES H. BRADLEY, Superintendent. An election of officers followed the issuing of the proclamation, and not long afterwards a City Hall, six feet by ten, was built, to accommodate the OFFIcERs OF COTTAGE now GOVERNMENT IN FRONT OF CITY HALL, JANUARY, 1899. 200 A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. newly organized government. Another build- ing, somewhat larger, was erected, and called Audnbon Hall. This is for a home for the numerous pets which the school possesses, in- cluding a monkey, an Angora goat, pigeons, rabbits and gninea pigs. Three curators are appointed to take care of the animals, under the direction of the Board of Aldermen. Since the organization of the government the offi- cial force has been increased by the addition of a mayor, an assessor, a jndge and a librarian. All of the officers except the judge are elected, the elections being held once in three months, on the first Tuesdays of Jann- ary, April, July and October. A cancns is held one week previous to the election. The ballots used are printed in the schools print- ing office, by the boys, and resemble as nearly as possible those prescribed by the Australian system. The jndge holds office dnring good behavior, or as long as he is at the school. There has never yet been an instance of a judge having been removed from office. One of the features of the Farm School which has been found very helpful is a small 0 monthly paper, called the Thompsons Island Beacon, written, edited and printed by the boys. As they naturally choose subjects to write about in which they are interested, there have been a number of articles in this paper at vari- ous times pertaining to Cottage Row. I do not think any description which I could write could be more interesting or more accurate than the descriptions in these articles, and I therefore quote from some of them. The first article gives a very complete account of the machinery of the city government, It is from the issue for March, 1898. COTTAGE ROW GOVERNMENT. Our principal officers are elected quarterly by the citizens. The Mayor is the supreme officer, and it is his duty to preside at the meetings of the citi zeus, to enforce due observance of the constitution, and to look after the government in general. The Board of Aldernien are the Mayors advisers. They assist him in performing his duties, and their chairman takes the Mayors place when absent. The Judge, who holds his office during good be- havior, tries all cases, instructs the Jury, and passes sentence. The Police Department of our government is a very interesting feature. The citizens elect the Chief of Police, who chooses his two patrolmen and two detectives. They have a general supervision over all the boys in Cottage Row and on the play- grounds, whether citizens or not. All complaints A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. 201 are made to the Chief of Police, and after looking into the case he applies to the Judge for a warrant and if this is issued makes the arrest. The Judge has charge of the case afterwards. At the proper time, within two weeks after the complaint is made, the Judge calls the court to order, and the trial begins. Our trials are very interesting, both sides having their lawyers and witnesses. The Street Commissioner, who is elected by the citizens, has charge of the appearance of the Row. The cottages are divided into three wards, and a waste bar- rel is placed in each of the wards. It is the duty of the citizens of each ward to take turns in emptying the barrels, and if a citi- zen fails to empty it in his turn he is tried and punished. All the citizens are on the same level in this line. It is the duty of the Assessor to set a value on all the cottages and raise it on all improvements. The City Clerk, who is appointed by the Mayor, has to make note of all that takes place in the government, such as keeping a strict account of all the transac- tions of shares in the cottages, issuing all certificates and deeds, and making out the nunutes of all meetings of the citizens and of the court. His desk, which is in the City Hall, contains note-heads, envelopes, cer- tificates and deeds, all of which are printed in our printing office. The Clerk also acts as Treasurer and has care of the govern- ment funds which are deposited in the Farm School Bank. The citizens meet every three months for a caucus and for election. The Board of Aldermen meet about every two weeks, so the affairs of the government are well looked after. As our City Hall is not large enough to accommodate all the citizens, our meetings and trials are held in our lame school- room, visitors always being welcome. The presiding officer uses a gavel which Mr. Bradley presented to Cottage Row, made of wood which he got at Mt. Vernon, Va. Another interesting feature of our gov- ernment is Audubon Hall, the headquar- ters of the Natural History Society. It contains rabbits, squirrels, white rats, guinea pigs, a white Angora goat, and an African monkey, Mr. Stubbs. The hall is very carefully looked after by three Curators, who are under the supervision of the Board of Aldermen. HOWARD B. ELLIS, Clerk. Another boy, in the issue for May, ~8q8, writes of his duties as chief of police: POLICE DEPARTMENT OF COT- TAGE ROW. I am Chief of Police of Cottage Row. I have two patrolmen, Chester 0. Sanborn and Samuel W. Webber. Our duty is to keep order on the play grounds and on the grounds of Cottage Row, and to see that no one breaks windows or does anything which would disturb others or prevent them from having a good time. Any one who offends in this way is arrested and tried before the Court. If found guilty he is punished by being compelled to stay away from the cottages for a certain length of time, or is deprived of the privi 202 A GOVERNMENT QE BOYS. lege of holding office, or punished in some similar way. WILLIAM C. CARR. In the June number for 1899, a boy who has succeeded the one whose arti- cle I quoted first, as clerk, describes a Cottage Roxv election: ELECTION OF OFFICERS FOR COTTAGE ROW. Cottage Row officers are elected once in three months. A week before the elec-- tion the voters hold a caucus in which are chosen the nominating committees. The Mayor chooses three boys who are to serve on the Mayors nominating committee, and the citizens choose three boys who are to serve on the citizens committee. These committees each nominate enough candi- dates to fill the offices. Both committees send in their reports to the clerk, who has the ballots printed. On the ballot, under each name, is a letter, C or M, which tells by which committee that boy is nomi- nated. Sometimes one boy is nominated by both committees. The election takes place a week after the caucus. It is held in the first schoolroom. Each citizen takes a separate seat, so that no two will be together. The ballots are then passed out. After the citizens are through voting the ballots are collected. Then the Mayor, aldermen and clerk count them. This takes quite a while. During the time the ballots are being counted, the citizens take a recess. When the ballots have all been counted, the meeting is called to order and the clerk reads the result of the election. First he reads the names of all the boys who were nominated, and the number of votes each received, then the names of the boys who were elected. Last of all the officers are sworn into office. The Judge swears the Mayor in, and the Mayor swears the other officers into office. WILLIAM AUSTIN, Clerk. The caucuses, elections and courts are, held in one of the schoolrooms, in order that all who wish may be pres- ent. Of course only boys who are property holders vote. Ownership of one share admits a boy to all privi- leges. Usually from three to five boys own a cottage together. All the meet- ings are managed wholly by the boys. Quite often some of the instructors go in, attracted by an interest in what is going on, but they attend only as spectators. The trials are often very interesting, and there are sometimes so many witnesses to be examined that a case cannot be completed in one evening. Some of the boys devel- op ability as lawyers which would foreshadow legal talent, and these are always in demand for counsel. When the evidence is all in, the lawyers make their pleas, the Judge charges the jury, and the latter retires. The jury usually agrees on a verdict, oftener I think than in real courts. Their verdicts are brought in sealed. Sentences are apt to be very practical, as the article of the chief of police which I have quoted intimates. I re THE FARM CLASS STARTING TO wORR. A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. 203 member that once a boy who was con- City Hall. The librarian is appointed victed of breaking a window in one of by the mayor; he has certain regnlar the cottages was sentenced to mend honrs when he is at the hall to give all the broken glass in the e~4ire city, ont books and receive those retnrned, while another fonnd annoying Nan- and the library, like that of the school nie, the goat, who is tethered on the itself, is very freely nsed. Fnrnitnre campns, was condemned to feed and in the cottages depends largely on cir- water her for a month. cnmstances. Every chair and table The cottages vary greatly in size which isdiscarded fromthemainbnild- and appearance. The smallest are ing is onickly snapped np. Some arti- abont fonr by six feet sqnare. Others des the boys can make for themselves. are considerably larger, and some of and their eyes are always open for the more ambitions have a bay win- others. I remember that once the dow or an L. They are fnrnished frame of a conch came ashore on the according to the taste and means of beach with other driftwood. The boy the owners. A favorite way of finish- who saw it first obtained permission to ing the interior is to line the walls oo and get it, and covered it with cx- with cheap cretonne of bright pattern, celsior and cretonne. Its possession, which is bonght by the snperintend- in his cottage, made him for a time the ent in a qnantity which allows of it aristocrat of the town. being sold to the boys at a price with- The first days of spring always see in their means. Pictnres and orna- repairs begnn all along the street, and ments adorn the walls, and nearly all reqnisitions for boards, paint, shingles of the boys have collections of books, and materials of all kinds flood the which are moved into the cottages snperintendents desk. Each cottage early in the spring and kept there is snrronnded by a plot of gronnd, and nntil the coming on of winter makes mnch taste is displayed in laying ont it advisable to bring them back to the these lawns with grass and flowers. main bnilding. The mnnicipality The City Hall has a lofty flagstaff and itself also has a library of some three a good flag, and several of the cottages hnndred volnmes, given it by varions have shorter staffs and smaller flags. friends. These books are kept in the One winter, while I was there, when THE DINING ROOM. 204 A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. property was low, two boys, both of whom were good carpenters, bought a small run-down cottage as a s pecula- tion. When it came spring, they re- paired it thoroughly and painted it. Then they advertised it to be sold at auction, held the sale, although neither of them had ever been to an auction in his life, and cleared $2.50 by the deal. As I remember now, I should say that the value of the shares in the dif- ferent cottages varies from about sixty cents each to a dollar and ten cents. Of course a boy who has no money cannot buy stock, but if he has money he can make any trade which seems to him desirable. The shares bought, he draws his check for the amount, and the seller deposits this check to th~ credit of his account. In this practice in banking, in the managenient of real estate and the learning to adjust prices to values, and in the conduct of the city government, I think these young voters of Cottage Row become better versed in the duties of citizenship than many adults ever do. No account of the Farm School would be complete which did not give a fuller description of the farm itself than I have yet done in this article. since that branch of the industrial work may be looked upon as the foun- dation of the system. In the one hun- dred and fifty-seven acres comprised in the area of the island there is prac- tically no land that is not available for tillage or for grazing, and used for one or the other of these purposes. It is the rule that the work of each boy for the first six months he is at the school shall be on the farm. In many cases the pupil remains longer on the farm or is detailed to that work again. ~Tisitors to the school almost always comment upon the rugged, healthy appearance of the pupils. There is no doubt that the good health which they enjoy and the sound constitutions which most of them seem to possess are in no small measure due to the healthy outdoor work. While there is no intention of making farmers of the boys, unless they develop a special fit- ness for it, many have been influenced by their early training at the school to follow farming as a means of earning a living. There is a large orchard of apple and pear trees upon the island, and a garden of generous proportions furnishes an ample supply of fresh THE FARM SCHOOL BAND. A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. 205 vegetables in their season and to store for winter. The farm produces all of the potatoes and vegetables required for the entire establishment. A herd of twenty-five good cows supplies all the milk needed. The yearly crop of hay is about one hundred tons. At least a bare mention must also be made of three other important features of the school :the excellent library, now nunibering over a thousand vol- umes, all standard books, many of them given by friends of the school, and all very freely used by the boys, the great flower garden, in which each boy has his own individual garden to care for; and the military vacation camp for the boys, established in 1898 on Oak Knoll, one of the most beauti- ful parts of the island. For nearly half a century the Farm School Band has been in existence and has been a pleasant and helpful feature of the schnol. This band was organ- ized -8, such few instruments as available being used. The next year a set of second- hand instruments xvas hired. Later a set of first-class instru- ments was bought, and these have been replaced as occa- sion required and added to at times by gifts, until the organ- ization is now very well equipped. The band numbers from twenty-five to thirty pieces, and a supplementary organization of the same num- ber of younger boys is main- tained, from which players are promoted to fill the vacancy in the band proper made by one of the older boys leaving the school. The boys practise only in their play time, except when they are sometimes drilled in the evening by one of their number, or when, once a week, ex- cept in the winter months, a com- petent instructor from the city comes down to drill them. They take a great deal of pleasure in the work, and it is seldom during the daylight hours that the tooting of one or more horns in practice is not to be heard coming from the gymnasium. Some of the boys develop decided musical talent. Many continue to play in bands after COMPANY DRILL. I)LNNER IN CAMP. 206 A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. they leave the school, as a means of adding to their income, while several have followed mnsic as a profession and achieved snccess. The band has freqnently been to Boston to give its assistance to varions nndertakings. It has played in Tremont Temple, and at the time of the Peace Jnbilee, in 1869, was invited to join the orchestra there, playing beside noted bands from all over the world. The band has occa- sionally been to the Soldiers Home at Chelsea to play for the veterans there, and for the last two years has played on Decoration Day for Thomas 0. Stevenson Post 26, G. A. R., of Rox- bnry. The qnestion is sometimes asked, How can Thompsons Island be reached from the main land? There is no regnlar pnblic means of com- mnnication. Once a month, from May to October, one of the boats of the Nantasket Line stops at the school wharf on its way down the harbor, and stops again, later in the day, on one of its retnrn trips. This enables the rela-- tives and friends of the boys to come and see them. These days are known as Visiting Days, and the date and honrs are an- nonnced by cards which are printed at the school and which the boys send to whomever they wish. For all other visits to the island, it is necessary to arrange with the snperin- tendent. The school has its own steam lannch, knockabont, and several rowboats ranging in size from a stont ten-oared boat down to one Which one bdy can row. A capacions scow, towed by the steamer, is nsed for handling freight. Whenever it is necessary, the steamer is nsed for crossing, bnt in pleasant weather one or more boys freqnently cross in row- boats to carry passengers and light freight, or to do errands. The older boys are thoroughly trained in the handling of boats of all knds. In the terrible storm of November, 1898, the island and school snifered JAAKV ~111N(~ Bb IS. A GOVERNMENT OF BOYS. COTTAGE ROW. THOMPSONS ISLAND. QUARTERLY ELECTION, JANUARY 2, 1900. Citizens wilt please mark X in space at right of candidate for whom they wiah to vote. M indicates candidate nominated hy committee appointed hy Mayor. C from Citizens. N. P.(Nomination Paper) indicates candidate nominated independently FOR MAYOR. Vote for one FOR Csier o~ POLIce. Vote for one. FREDERICK HILL. SAMUEL W. WEBBER. M c ~FREDERICK F BURORSTED FOR ALDERMEN Vote for three JOESPH A. CARR Nt FOR JURY. Vote for seem. JOHN J. CONKLIN. JOHN J CONKLIN C Nt 0 GEORGE THOMAS. GEORGE THOMAS. MV CHARLES HILL. Nt JOHN J. POWERS Nt FREDERICK W. THOMPSON RALPH 0. ANDERSON. Nt SAMUEL A. WAYCOTT FOR AssessoR. Vote for one GEORGE E. HART. I DON C. CLARK. FRANK C. SIMPSON. Nt,, 0 CHARLES W. JORGENSEN - - BARNEY HILL. Nt C FREDERICK W THOMPSON. M, C FOR STREET COMMIsSIONeR Vote for BARNEY HILL. one Nt GEORGE E. HICK ~ Mayors Committee FREDERICK HILL. JOSEPH A. CARR. SAMUEL W. WEBBER. Citizens Committee FREDERICK W. THOMPSON. CEORCE THOMAS. SAMUEL F. BUTLER. OFFICIAL BALLOT. severely. Four large sChooners which dragged their anchors at their moor- ings between Thompsons Island and Castle Island drifted in upon one an- other against the base of the schools wharf. The last of these to come in greatly damaged the breakwater and wharf and, striking the schools steam launch, where she was moored, sunk her and completely demolished her. The landing floats were carried away, three valuable rowboats were crushed, and much other serious damage was done, especially to the 207 2o8 FRIENDS. GRADUATING CLA55 OF 99. dikes which protect the low land of the island from the salt water. By the generosity of friends of the school, the steamer and rowboats have been replaced. It has been a pleas- ant fancy, suggested perhaps by a knowledge of the early visit of the Pil grims to this island, to give the boats names sug- gestiveof that event. The steamer, the largest boat, is named the Pilgrim. The row- boats are respective- ly Mary Chilton, Pris- cilla, Brewster, Standish and Bradford, while the freight barge bears the name of sturdy John Alden. The value of an un- dertaking is measured by its results. Since the Farm School has been in existence, it has cared for eighteen hundred boys. Most of these have grown to make good and useful citi- zens. Some have achieved well earned distinction. If the parent who raises up one good son is said to have done his country a service worthy of commendation, surely credit is due an organization which has sus- tained a parental relation to so many sons. FRIENDS. By Theodosia Pickering Garrison. HIS love demands too much, methinks, T Too much of striving and unrest, Too many blows for scanty bliss, Too much dependent on a kiss, Too much concealed, too much confessed. One wearies of a ceaseless glare ; Give me your friendships shadowing, The knowledge of a sympathy And confidence that may not be Distorted by a little thing. Yea, let ours be the gentler way, The level eyes, the steady hand; Not love that bloweth hot or cold One craveth peace as one grows old ; Let us be wise and understand. By Caroline Tick,ior. T HORNDALE MANOR stood lonely and desolate beside the glaring, dusty road which cut its once secluded grounds asunder. The fine old elms which formerly had screened the noble dwelling had one by one fallen beneath some cruel, pro- gressive axe. The splendid pines which had like sentinels stood guard for generations over the long, impos- ing driveway lay prostrate and dis- membered in various scattered wood piles. The velvet lawns were covered with rocks and stubbly weeds; the trampled terraces were pitiful remind- ers of former symmetry and cultiva- tion. Smoothly trimmed hedges, neat pencilled paths, beautiful flower beds, were all things of the past, mere idle memories, of which scarcely a trace remained, save in the consciousness of some aged inhabitant, who sighed over the old prosperity of Thorndale while he ate berries from its tangled bushes, or spoke respectfully of dig- nified Judge Thorne while chopping down the best of the great trees which once had been his pride and his de- light. Indeed Dame Progress had made but sorry work of Thorudale park; its trees and lawns and flowers were gone. and in their places were work- men s shanties, cheap shops and a huge and ungainly car shed, a shelter for the many electric cars which now ran through the fine old grounds. Ah, but Dame Progress, though en- terprising, is strangely inartistic; else she could never have chosen to trans- form Thorudale into a noisy, dusty electric railway terminus. And if she made sad work of Thorndale park, her conduct towards the Manor was even more deplorable. Dismantled and reproachful it loomed up mournfully close to the noisy thor- oughfare, majestic in its mutilations, dignified despite decadence and dust. One gnarled and aged cherry tree still remained standing near the west- ern porch, like some faithful depend- ant, unwilling to desert though sol- itary and forlorn amid the ruins of departed splendor; while a red ram- bler rose clung fondly to a twisted broken trellis and spread its foliage as if it fain would screen from the bright, scornful glances of the sunset, the dismal ash barrels now ranged on the veranda. The upper half of the Dutch door which used to swing so lightly back to frame the dainty living pictures that gazed with pleasure at the sunset olow creaked pitifully when it was 209 THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. 210 THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. opened wide by a stout red-armed washerwoman, who deemed the lower half of it a kind of patent clothes- horse. This desecrated portion of the door, on which had lightly rested the dimpled elbows and silken draperies of many dainty dames, shrank from the vulgar pressure of Mrs. Mike MacDonalds massive arms, and ceased to call itself the better half, as it had done in those proud days of old, when lovely Mrs. Thorne had leaned upon it, a privilege which had outweighed in value even the heavy antique knocker which then adorned the other part of the old door. The upper windows of the Manor seemed ever gazing out across the hills, as if they watched for the return of the old-time inhabitants and would not for an instant lower their eyes to view the hopeless devastation near at hand. When the wind blew, the rickety old shutters and loosened panes rattled and moaned and mur- mured their sad complaints to one another; and in the chimneys gloomy ~eolian harps wailed fitful melodies. In the clear, searching sunlight, the old house stood forth in pitiful reliqf, flaunting its manifold defects, shorn of its great protecting elms, its grace- ful terraces, robbed of its small ac- cessories and many minor details. Even in the unsparing, pitiless sun- light the Manor still retained its in- nate respectability, although its dig- nity suffered perceptibly; but when the storms raged fiercely and driving sleet or drenching rain obscured the ravages of time, neglect and progress, the indomitable spirit of the place as- serted its supremacy from porch to turret. In the wide upper halls an echo might be heard of modulated voices, the rustle of silken skirts, the tread of satin slippers; and down the long forsaken corridors would come a snatch of silvery laughter, to mingle with the voices of the storm. At such a time the numerous Mac- Donalds, huddled about their com- fortable cook stove, would become strangely silent, as if oppressed by some pervading influence they could not have described. The various oc- cupants who tenanted the eastern wing of the old house also gave evi- dence of general discontent in times of wind and storm. They spoke of curious noises which they could not account for, murmurings and stealthy footsteps fleeing from one deserted chamber to another. The dwellers at the Manor were well content, when the sun shone, to lounge about the wide verandas, to hang their bedding from the lower windows and spread their washing on the balustrade which skirted the long western terrace. At such a time they fancied themselves in correspond- ence with their environment, al- though they could not have so ex- pressed the thought; but they were merely temporarily deceived, for when a stormy day closed in upon them and the bold spirit of the house made itself felt throughout the entire structure, they were depressed by a strange loneliness and discontent, and vowed to leave their rooms in the old Manor at the first chance that offered. One sultry afternoon a very aged traveller made his appearance in the village. He was so old and bent that he attracted some notice from the peo- ple on the streets, at whom he stared as if he sought to recognize in each an old acquaintance, but failing to do so passed slowly on. It being noontime, he stopped for refreshment at a meagre wooden structure which bore the sign Lunch Room in letters large enough to dwarf everything else connected with the place. Here, while he ate a plate of beans and drank a cup of coffee, he drifted into conversation with a brisk young man who ordered every kind of pie upon the bill of fare. Between the several pieces the young man had inquired: Stranger in these parts? Well, yes, I shouldnt wonder if I was, the old man mused. Its nigh on fifty years since I was hereabouts. Oh, then you lived here once! the other casually remarked. I guess I did. I was born in that old white farmhouse close by the turnpike. Its one of the few places thats pretty much the same to-day. There have been a lot of changes up here of late, the brisk young man went on. Its getting to be quite a place these last few years; two shoe factories and a new woollen mill, and this electric road put through a year agos just going to boom the town. It runs clear up above the cor- ners and ends over at Thorndale. The old man suddenly pricked up his ears. You dont say that they run so far as that. I spose they stop right by the old stone gateway, or just this side of it? I guess not; they run clear up beyond the house into the car sheds, the other answered, spooning up the liquid portion of his blueberry pie with satisfaction. VVhat, the old man exclaimed ex- citedly, they dont dare run their car line into the judges grounds ! The judges grounds ! the other said derisively; I should suppose he owned about six feet of ground up in the cemetery, which no ones tres- passed on these thirty years, except to read his epitaph. But, then, the family, they wouldnt let the old place be destroyed! All dead or moved away, and the estate has passed out of their hands. Oh, youre mistaken, sir, youre very much mistaken. What, Thorn- dale pass out of the hands of the Thorne family? Impossible! Youre misinformed, indeed you are ; and the old man, his pale face flushed with anger, hobbled away indignantly, leaving the brisk young man to tap his head and exchange knowing glances with the proprietor of the establish- ment. He dont knoxv much about this place, you can depend on that, the old man muttered as he plodded along in the hot sun until he reached the electric car tracks. I might as 211 well ride out to Thorndale if this line goes anywhere near there, he mused as he hailed an approaching car. As they dashed through what had been formerly the outskirts of the town, he looked with interest at the tall, compact blocks which reared their heads on either side of the main street, and counted wonderingly the many shops and rows of modern houses which stood where he recalled wide sweeps of pasture land and ver- dant hay fields. At last the buildings became more and more scattered, un- til they left behind the thickly settled district; and as they passed a small grove~ and a tumbled-down white barn, the old mans face assumed a look of satisfaction. Some landmarks at least remained unchanged. lie eyed a fine old clump of maples af- fectionately as they swept past, and as the car swerved suddenly off to the right he jumped up hastily and waved to the conductor, who jerked the bell rope. I want to get off somewhere near the gateway. You see, Im going up to Thorudale, he explained, as he reached the platform. Then stay just where you are and well take you right up, the monarch of the strap responded, ringing the bell. ~Hold on, young man; theres some mistake. This car dont run in through the grounds. I tell you I want to get off near the sate, so I c& n walk up to the house. All right, sir; just wait a bit and we will take you clear to the dqor. The bent old man drew himself up with fierce determination, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he seemed for the moment to have grown young and active again. Stop this car in- stantly and let me off, he thundered. Do you think I will ride through the old park on an electric car? Let me off here, I say! A minute later the old man sat alone upon the stump of a freshly felled tree and wiped the perspiration from his brow while he gazed help- THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. 21 THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. lessly about him. Was this the en- trance to the fine old grounds? Were these stumps all that remained of its tall, splendid trees? Was that stubbly land the sole reminder of the smooth velvet lawn that sloped down to the gateway? The visitor rose feebly, and his step seemed to have lost its last vestige of firmness. Turning in- dignantly from the intrusive car track he made his way up through a maze of tangled shrubbery towards Thorn- dale Manor. As he progressed nothing escaped his searching gaze, which found at every turn new evi- dences of ruin and destruction. When he at last emerged upon the upper terrace, which had of old commanded the finest view of Thorndale, he turned one horror stricken glance upon the long array of dusty car sheds, and dropped upon a pile of boards near by, burying his face in both his hands. He remained thus for several minutes, until a hand was laid upon his shoukler and a voice questioned: What ails ye, old man? I calclate the suns a bit too hot. Hadnt ye better get over in the shed, whar its some shadier? I guess youre right, the visitor said feebly. Im lookin the wrong way; my back had ought to be turned to the Manor, and then Id feel more comfortable. The other led the way to a long bench, which ran in front of the main shed, and upon which one or two motormen were stretched, awaiting a signal for departure. Here ye ken get some shade with- out turnin yer back around, he said, dropping contentedly upon the bench with the deliberate air of a true gentleman of leisure. Aint ye ben up this way afore? he amiably con- cluded, taking a large plug of tobacco from his pocket and offering the same with friendly hospitality. Its nigh on fifty years since I was up here, the old man answered gloomily. No, thank you, I dont chew. Some changes, hey! the other went on volubly. Theyve done a big sight of improvin up here the last few years. Look at them lectric cars and all them shedsan more sheds goin up beside. This roads extended clear through to the city, an cars run every fifteen minutes right through the day. Didnt ye find the town con- sidrable improved? The old man shook his head. I dont care much about the town, he said despondently. I came on here just to see Thorudale once more be- fore I died. I came a three days journey to get a view of the old place loomin up through the shrubs and trees with its green terraces and run- nin fountains and the finest approach up through the long curved driveway that ever was laid out. Good Heavens, man, if it werent for the old house lookin at me so grim and sor- rowful across that car track I never d have known I was at Thorndale. The tears stood in his eyes as he looked at the dignified old dxvelling, which seemed to answer his pathetic glance with pitiful appeal. What are those barrels out on the piazza? he questioned miserably. Thems Mike MacDonalds ash barrels. I see a lot of old tomato cans on the piazza roof, and a wash boiler, and theres a row of milk pans and lard pails in the bay window of the li- brary. I guess it aint a library no longer, the other commented. Mike an his wife aint much on books and sich, for they cant either of um read or write. Why did I live to see the old place come to this ! groaned the old man. Ye aint owned any of it, that ye sot so much by it? I used to think that all the folks in these parts shared in the ownership of Thorndale. They were all proud of it and loved it; it gave a tone to the whole county, as well as to the town here. There wasnt a place could match it anyxvhere. Folks would come thirty miles to get a look at it. THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. 2I~ And the old Judge was glad to have a string of visitors a-drivin through the grounds. I can remember the little sign down by the gate which said, Strangers are welcomethats what it said. I guess the pride ~in the old place must have wore out, the other re- marked thoughtfully. Ye must have hed an extry big supply ter start with, ter last yer fifty years. I was right in the family, the old man said with increased dignity. Yer dont say? I was the Judges own particular inside man for seven years; and there was never a finer gentleman tro(l on an inlaid floor. Ive seen a good bit of the world since then, but never any happier days than what I spent at Thorndale. Manys the time Ive wished myself back there; manys the homesick days Ive spent sighin for the old house,with lovely Mrs. Thorne a-sittin behind the silver urn or pickin roses in the garden, with Master Tom racin ahead, and dear little Miss Mary teasin to take the guinea pigs into the drawin room. Yer didnt hurry back ter the old place, the other put in dryly. No, the old man said mournfully; I didnt know as I should ever come back here, but somehow I felt I couldnt die without another look at Thorudale. The more I thought about it, the more I just made up my mind I would come back and see it once again; then V could die in peace feelin Id had the best thing last. But now I guess yer xvish yerd stayed axvav The old man bowed his head in both his hands again and made no answer. After some time he rose de- jectedly. Im goin over to the house, he said. Im sure as Mrs. Mike Mac- Donald 11 show yer over it; jest say as Larry Simpkins sint ye along. What name is that? I used to know big Larry Simpkins; your father, hey? Me grandfather, the younger Larry responded carelessly. You dont say. Well, your grandpa wasnt much of a worker; he never put in any more hours than he could help. No more do I, the grandson re- joined proudly, stretching himself at full length on the bench; weve got a kind of dislike fer active exercise. Youre just a-livin out the princi-~ ples of your forefathers, the old man responded. Youre no worse than your grandfather if you should loaf from now on, all your days. I guess thats so, Larry rejoined philosophically. He died out at the poor farm of doubled-up pneumony from settin in an ice-cold room ruthern chop up wood ter keep him warm. But let me tell yer,here Larrys eloquence caused him to rise impressively,let me jest tell yer about a man as drowned hisself up in the river last October. Here Larry came close to the old man and laid his hand upon his arm. I seen him the very day he done it, an it has sort er haunted me a-thinkin I might a stopped him. He sot out on the xvall by the post office an told me how he had run through everythin and throwed away his chances and jest disgraced his family. An now, says he, the sooner I get out the better. Im a degenerated member of my fain- ily,tliats what he says,an I jest guess the xvorldll get along a little speck better without me. Im jest an idle loafer, he says, an the thought makes me desperate. I dont knov~ why it should, says I; Im that meself, an it aint throublin me at all. He looked at me strange like and says, Dont yer feel bad ter think yer father and yer grandfather ud be ashamed of yer? Not thim, says I; they was no better than meself. Thats jest the pint, he says ter me; if ye aint been respectable, the thing dont matter; but if youve been a fust-class specimen once on a time, youd better die ter once than stay around a disgrace and a sheer 214 THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. reproach. An that poor devil drowned hisseif that very afternoon. He was one of them over-conscious uns, Larry concluded, with a supe- rior smile. I tell ye it dont pay fer anyman ter be like that ;and he again resumed his place upon the bench, while the old man walked slowly up the path to Thorndale Manor. Larrys words rang in his ears: If ye aint been respectable, the thing dont matter; but if youve been a fust- class specimen,ah, yes, like Thorn- dale, first of its race, noble and beauti- ful,better, oh, better not to be at all than to be so disgraced. As he approached the house, loud voices upraised in altercation greeted his ears. Many minute MacDonalds were running back and forth through the wide doorway. Tables and chairs and washtubs handled by Mike Mac- Donald and an expressman were be- ing ranged on the veranda before which stood a lumbering express cart. Leaning against a post on the veranda stood the brisk, businesslike young man with whom the visitor had lunched a couple of hours before; and a few feet away, confronting him with arms akimbo, stood Mrs. Mike Mac- Donald. Its a mane trick yer playin us pore folks, ter turn us out afore our furniture is packed, an Mikes clothes in the washtub ! she screamed ex- citedly. I gave you notice to get out last Monday, the man said sharply. I suppose you thought I could wait round a week or so for you to get out a few chairs and washtubs; but let me tell you if youre not out by five oclock, with every flatiron and kettle, Ill have another weeks rent out of you ; and, turning on his heel, the brisk young man strode down the path so rapidly that he almost collided with the old man, who stood watching the scene in silence. Those people stick like cold mo- lasses, he explained briefly, his face relaxing as he halted a moment be- side the visitor, who stood watching the house with a grim, bitter smile upon his lips. The other families cleared out on time without a bit of impudence; but that old woman, she has a tongue. What am I going to do with the old house? Ill tell you, sir, Im going to make it pay. Its absurd going on this way, letting a few rooms here and there, and having a lot of waste space thats no use to any one. The old house is going to be fixed up first rate, sir, for future oc- cupancy. The visitors face lighted up joy- fully. Im glad of that, he mur- mured. I can see how the Manor needs repairs. Itll cost a pretty penny to get it into shape, but it is worth it. Youre right there, the other went on cheerfully. Im going to have the carpenters up here to-mor- row, to put up new partitions in the big rooms and halls. Why, they can make more than half a dozen good tenements out of the waste space there. Im going to have the thing done up in style,a double row of bells there by the big front door, first- class kitchen accommodations in every tenement,no trouble about that, with all those open fireplaces, andwhy, friend, you look as though youd got a shock; is anything the matter? The old mans face was ghastly pale. His whole frame shook with pent-up anger as he broke forth: Youre goin to do that,youre goin to fix up Thorndale Manor for a cheap tenement house,you re goin to fill it with folks like those MacDonalds,youre goin to put partitions in the great hallways and cookin stoves in the fine guest rooms! A house like that! a noble, splendid house! Oh, youre a scoun- (lrel-a cruel, wicked, mercenary theyre no words to describe you. I know your kind; th~y sell their friends, their families, yes, and their souls for a few stingy dollars! With a wrathful wave of his thin shaking hand, the old man tottered THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. 215 off. His indignation seemed to choke him, and when he reached the bench where Larry slumbered fitfully, he cleared his throat repeatedly before his voice returned; then he poured forth a torrent of angry words, while his companion eyed him in amaze- ment, unable for some time to com- prehend the purport of the old mans wrathful utterances. At last, when he had spent his anger and had sunk half exhausted on the bench, Larry vouchsafed a few remarks intended to soothe his indignation. I guess if I was you I wouldnt worry no more about the place, he urged. Theyll paint her up an get in a neat set of tenants wholl put around geraniums in starch boxes and start a nice, trim vegetable gar- den right there in front of the piazza; some un 11 chop down them vines as hangs all over them second-story winders, an set out rows of clothes poles there at the side, where theres a big flat place ud make a fust-rate clothes yard. The old man groaned. An I say, Larry went on more thoughtfully, youd ought to hey heard a man as was up street the other night go on about big houses. Says he, The time for palaces an castles and sich like is passed away. He says, a small neat dwellin house is good enough fer any one, an if there warnt no folks in great big houses,. thered be enough of money to give every poor man a comfortable home. He says twas time as things was equalled up an evenly divided; an I fer one ud like ter see the thing done right away. If it is right for things to be all equalled up, why dont God equal um, the old man answered; why dont he start us all as handsome as some folks are, and just as smart and handy; and why arent all the trees and flowers made on one pat- tern? This world would be a sightly place, with nothin in it that every- body couldnt have, and everything all equalled up, and each man served with just the same amount; no pri yates in the army, but every man a general;, and all the folks a wearin crowns cause Queen Victorias got one. When that time comes there wont be any more places like Thorn- daleand no more real ladies and gentlemen fit to live in them. Muttering to himself, the old man turned away from his drowsy com- panion who stretched himself again upon the bench and quietly prepared to take possession in dreamland of those estates he might not hope to own elsewhere. Deep in a hollow far below the house the old man found a little rustic seat close by a clump of spruce trees which the rude axe had spared; and as he rested in the shade he could catch glimpses between the swaying branches of Thorndale Manor, which through the veil of waving green ap- peared once more clothed in its for- mer dignity. Queen of the country- side, it loomed up proudly, with all its old-time grandeur, crowning the loveliest knoll, and banked by its fine lawns and stately trees. The old man gazed peacefully at the old house, and the sun dropped behind the ridge; the gray twilight deepened into darkness, but still he gazed at the dim silhouette of Thorndale Manor now outlined against a spangled background of evening stars. At last a big, red August moon jumped into place among the scattered stars, xvhose twinkling lights paled into insignifi- cance before its brilliant rays. Then the old man rose slowly and retraced his steps towards Thorndale. The wide Dutch door stood open, and the veranda was cleared of fur- niture and ash barrels. The last of the MacDonalds household gods had been removed. The visitor wan- dered across the big, square hall, now dimly lighted by the moon, which y)eered through a long window set in the landing of the stairway, and crept between the beautiful carved ban- isters. The aged servitor again saw lovely Mrs. Thorne pausing upon the 216 THE PASSING OF THORNDALE. landing in trailing satin gown and dainty white kid slippers. He spied the Judge standing before the im- mense open fireplace, his back to the bright blazing logs, watching his wifes approach with a keen glance of pleasure. The old man pushed open the door which led into the Judges library. Only the high carved wains- coting reniained to testify to its iden- tity; but in the semi-darkness the many bookcases, the tall clock and antique desk assumed their old-time places. A little fire in the library; the place is chilly, the Judges voice seemed sounding in the ears of his old servant, who answered: Yes, yes, your honor. Stealthily througt the halls the old man moved. Each turn and passage- way were as familiar to him as if he had left them but yesterday. He paused now at the nursery door to murmur a message to the children, now at the Judges dressing room, and finally at Mrs. Thornes boudoir. Again he saw her standing before the long French window dressed for a journey, while several trunks stood near by ready for departure. Her tone was low and sweet. We shall be gone some time, so take good care of Thorudale. The Judge and I are not afraid to leave it in your charge. You know our wishes regarding everything; keep the old house in good condition to do us credit while we are gone.~~ A light breeze whispered through the halls and passageways: Better not be at all than to exist disgraced. and fallen so low. The vines tapped mockingly upon the windows and waved their beckoning fingers in the moonlight. The old man hurried down the path from Thorndale Manor. His breath came rapidly and his eye flashed de- fiantly as he strode swiftly on. He stepped with old-time firmness, as if he had forgotten that he was old, and had with that forgetfulness regained the elasticity of youth. I will take care of Thorudale, my lady, he murmured; you may de- pend on me ; the house shall not (lis grace you. 1 have the honor of ti e place at heart. It is as dear to me as to yourself. A little fire in the library? Yes, yes, your honor; the room is surely chilly. Across the fields for half a mile and out on to the high road, and the old man has paused near a stone wall upon the brow of the hill opposite; for suddenly a light gleams forth from the deserted library of Thorndale Manor! The room is chilly! A fire, your honor.~~ The halls and upper chambers arc now illuminated. It is long since so manylights shone in thefineold house. Is there a ball, a musicale, or a bigj dinner, up at the Judges? Surely my ladys boudoir is decked with many candles for the arriving guests. In all its years of pomp and glory the house was never once transformed like this. It is undoubtedly a most expensive entertainment, for there are lights in every window of the big house. A wagonette drove rapidly to the hills brow; the driver drew rein, and eager voices were wafted to the old man, who stood immovable by the stone wall. The voice of a small boy was raised in eager questioning. Is it on fire? he cried. Thorn- dale on fire! Then I shall never see the old place after all. He jumped over the wall and stood beside the motionless old man. Will they be able to put the fire out? he ques- tioned. The old man drew his hand across his brow and shook his head. Im glad I came in time to see it burn, the boy broke forth. Father has always promised to let me see the place some day, when we came East. TWO SPRINGS. 217 You see Im named after his grand- father, who used to own it. Oh, what a splendid house! I wish we could go nearer; but Mr. Kents afraid his horse xviii run if he goes down there. When Im a man Ill have a house like that, and I shall call it Thorudale Manor junior. I do wish I could have seen the house near to. The old man clasped the boys hand with nervous energy. Look at it now, he cried. You wont forget it. See the flames light it up, all the big windows, the turret and the long piazzas! Those tongues of fire that dart out of the roof and through the windows are hungry toeatupthebeau- tiful wistaria that climbs overthewalls. Think of the place with lawns and trees and fountains and flower gar- dens; everything splendid; a big boars head and antlers in the hail, and swords and guns over the fire- place; high carving on the walls, pic- tures and books and statues. I shall remember it, the boy cried breathlessly, retaining his hold of the others stiff, bony hand. I shant forget old Thorndale; and some day Ill build a new and finer one. Oh, see, the walls are falling in! A brilliant, terrible illumination! Loud shouts and confused sounds of many voices wafted across the valley. Great leaping tongues of flame, and then,only the charred and smoulder- ing remains of Thorudale! The fire is nearly out, the boy exclaimed. Why dont you look at it? He drew his fingers from the stiff- ening clasp of the old man, who tot- tered back against the stone wall, murmuring: A little fire in the library, your honor. I will take care of the old house. Thorudale is burned down to the ground, the boy cried, running back to his friends in the wagonette; and that queer, bent old man is fast asleep by the stone wall ! TWO SPRINGS. By John Dahi White. WIND and cloud were held in tether, Far and far away; Love and song and flower together Made the peerless day. Ab, the time held naught of sadness, By n a memory; And my heart was joyed to madness, All knew why! Once again the weather urges Love and song and flower; All the withered season verges To the blossom-hour; And the rath south-wind is shaking Song across the sky; But my heart is grieved to breaking ; God knows why! NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. By William T. Brigham. ANEW ENGLAND ancestry had scarcely been created when the earliest migration from Massa- chusetts to Maryland is recorded. Persecution inflicted by those who themselves had suffered punishment, privation and exile for conscience sake upon those to whom in turn they denied the rights of a religious lib- erty caused a loss to the Massachu- setts colony of most valuable mate- rial. Wenlock Christison was of that band of martyrs, which included Peter Pierson, Mary Dyer, Mary Tompkins, Alice Gary and Judith Brown. Abused, reviled and tor- tured, his near friend, William Led- dra, having suffered death by hang- ing, this devout Quaker was driven out of Boston in i66i by the edict of Governor Endicott, with the penalty of death upon his head if ag~ain found in the Puritan city. He sought refuge in the domain of a Catholic proprie- tary, where the expressions of his own religious belief were tolerated and re- spected and where he and his follow- ers were encouraged to reside. Catholic Maryland proved Wen- lock Christisons haven of rest. Here he married, prospered and died. His home was located on Bettys Cove, an inlet of the beautiful Tread-Avon, a tributary of Chesapeake Bay, in the county of Talbot, a suitable place for the calm ending of a life once so ex- 218 citing and turbulent. Here still re- side many of the Society of Friends, who observe the same customs that were introduced by that little band of refugees. Wenlock ChrLstison originally came from England, but with a residence of several years in and around Boston he may, by claim of recognized citi- zenship, well be termed a New Eng- lander, the first so far as known to settle in that state, whose foremost commercial city, not then in exist- ence, was in after years to receive from New England substantial con- tributions to its wealth and pros- perity and a lasting impression upon the habits and customs of its people. The commercial history of Balti- more is almost sensationally inter- esting. Sixty lots of an acre each comprised the area of the township of Baltimore, as laid out by enterpris- ing landowners in the year 1730. With the customary egotism of spec- ulators, they estimated the big de- mand sure to come for the property and guarded their rights by a decree that no person would be permitted to take more than one lot during the first four months. They also ~dictated the size of the house to be erected by the purchaser. Quite like many speculative towns of modern date, well designed with avenues, sewers, NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 219 electric lights and rapid transit, not a house nor a hut was yet upon the grounds. The projectors of the new town, after drawing upon all re- sources, found no sale for the val- uable lots, and ill fortune followed with good cause when the first set- tler, David Jones, who had purchased property just outside their borders, established a rival enterprise. Jones- toxvn even eclipsed Baltimore, for it began the fulfilment of its destiny with at least one inhabitant, while Baltimore had none; but the inter- ests of Jonestown and Baltimore were too nearly identical for a prolonged competition, and in i~4~ they con- solidated, the former consenting to take the more euphonious name of the two. This union, however, did not attract settlers, nor bring the looked for reward of prosperity, and after twenty years~ existence the growth of Baltimore was embraced in twenty-five houses, including a schoolhouse, with little promise of the place being in the future a com- mercial centre of importance. In 1730, William Fell, a ship car- penter, located on the shore of the bay about a mile south of the limits of Baltimore, and established a ship- yard. Fells Point soon became a busy seat of industry, in time sur- passing the combined gloi~y of Jones- town and Baltimore. It was added to the consolidated town in 1773, and while the population then was small, the limit of territory was great enough to accommodate uncounted numbers. Thus the date of this last acquisition may be taken as the true beginning of the commercial growth of Baltimore. A touch of sympathy, if not of iden- tical interest, seems constantly to have existed between Maryland and Massachusetts; and there exist rec- ords of public affairs which brought the two colonies into close intimate relations during that period in which all were in a state of unrest and po- litical persecution. The demonstra- tions against arbitrary acts were in their nature similar in Massachusetts and Maryland. Boston and Annapo- lis both boasted their tea parties ; but to Maryland belongs the especial honor of having the owner of the pre- cious cargo himself touch the match that destroyed both vessel and the disreputable weed. Quickly espousing the cause of lib- erty, Maryland at once rejected arti- cles of foreign make, giving choice to those of home production. Actuated by a feeling of sympathy for their fel- low citizens of Boston, whom the British Parliament in 1774 attempted to shut out from commercial inter- course with every part of the world, the citizens of Baltimore called a town meeting and unanimously recom- mended a general congress of dele- gates, to meet at Annapolis, to take action against this indignity upon American liberties. The congress met June 22, 1774, offering their heartiest support, not only in resolu- tions, but in the more substantial way of money and food to aid their Bos- ton friends in resistance to British tyranny and oppression, supplement- ing these patriotic resolutions by one making the importation of English goods an act disloyal to the sentiment of American hearts. This demon- stration of Marylands generous inter- est in Massachusetts created a bond of union between the two states which has proved to be lasting. Although previous to the Revolu- tionary War Baltimore had acquired a foreign commerce of considerable importance, it had not yet begun that rapid march which afterwards so quickly brought it forward in impor- tance. New York, Boston and Pihila- delphia were well on in existence be- fore Baltimore was born. At the close of the w~tr, when the population of the city was but five thousand, the famous General Greene of Rhode Island, on his way homeward from the South, in 1783, stopped there and gave his impressions as follows: Baltimore is a most thriving place; trade flourishes and the spirit 220 NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. of building is beyond belief. Not less than three hundred houses are put up in a year. Ground rents are a little short of what they are in Lon- don. The inhabitants are all men of business. Baltimore kept advancing in popu- lation and wealth; compared with her rivals she was precocious. In i800 the population was 26,714; and in 1830 the place had grown to be a prosperous commercial city of 80,625 inhabitants, having in the race for po- sition outstripped both Boston and Philadelphia, taking her place next to New York as the second city of the United States. It was mainly the industrial inter- ests of the North, in their develop- ment and expansion following the close of the Revolutionary War, when seeking new markets for their in- creasing products, that gave the stim- ulus to a large migration from New England to Baltimore. Both west- ward and southward was the Star of the Empire wending its way, and Baltimore was the open sesame to its doors of trade. The Chesapeake provided navigation to an inland point farther towards tile West than any other similar body of water on the Atlantic coast, while the city at its head was tile most accessible starting point for crossing the Alleghanies, at that time considered such a barrier to the progress of the countrys develop- ment. Passing a full century of events from the appearance of Wenlock Christison in Maryland, great and im- portant changes mark the period. But it is not alone in outward and material things that we are called to note the changes wrought by a cen- tury. That vigorous form of piety which made its impress upon the first Puritan government on this conti- ilent was dying out, and while narrow- mindedness was by no means extinct, generations had modified the ideas and character of men. A tenderer thought of God, with a more humane feeling for mankind, now softened the hard lines of Puritan rule. New England had become the centre of a liberal religious thought which was fast spreading its gentleness and sweetness. The early New Eng- lander in Baltimore, inspired with a deep love and veneration for the tra- ditions of his ancestors, maintained in his new home many of the domestic habits of his own people. Precise methods of housekeeping, the careful oversight of all family interests, the strict observance of Fast and Thanks- giving days, were among the hered- itary duties which Ile coilsidered it an obligation to recognize. For a full generation Baltimore possessed in its population two dis- tinct types, noticeably marked as Northern and Southern. Even in the building of their homes a manifest difference was perceptible, xvith the result of giving a variety to tile ap- pearance of the residence streets, which Ilas been frequently coni- mented upon as an especial charm. The proverbial conservatism of tile early Baltimore merchant sprang from conditions existing in the ear- lier (lays of tile citys commercial de- velopment,conditioIls which un- doubtedly arose from the comming- ling of various nationalities. Thrift~~, ambitious, well trained and intelligent Scotcll and Irish merchants settled in l3altinlore before tIle Revolution and secured the valuable foreign tra~le which the products of the South uro- duced. Cotton and tobacco were ar- ticles of vital interest in the prosperity of the Southern colonies, and Balti- more was made tIle port through whicll the extellsive commerce created by them passed. As the re- sult of good nlercantile Illanagemeilt by the foreign merchants established here, the Southern planter soon found that he could be served to better ad- vantage by consigning the products of his plantation to Baltimore than by sending them direct as heretofore to England and France. The constant restrictions placed by England upon the manufactures of her colonies in- NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 221 creased the export of the chief staples of the South. The Southern planter, securing large profits from his easily acquired crops, was extravagant, re- ceiving most of his luxurious articles for personal and household use from England and France through the channels of Baltimore trade. This close business contact of the courtly, proud and refined Southerner with the intelligent, well bred money- making Scotch and Irish merchants left its mark on both sides, develop- ing in the course of a generation a pleasing originality in habits and cus- toms, which created for Baltimore a world-wide renown for courteous hos- pitality and charming people, still its prerogative at the present day. It was not until after the Revolu- tionary War, however, that the New Englander appeared in Baltimore in his strength. Entering at once into the channels of trade, with his saga- cious business ways he soon gained prominence in the citys financial de- partments. Devoting himself ear- nestly and faithfully to the object of his labors, success was frequently at- tained by him, insomuch that event- ually the wealth of the city came to be largely in his hands. While the pragmatic Northerner in his new home occasionally surren- dered his native habits to the influ- ence of an ascendant power, he clung with hereditary tenacity to his early training in trade and traffic, contrib- uting in return for the ornamental and polished elements of the change that came to him suih personal quali- ties as were recognized as valuable in promoting the commercial advance- ment of the city of his adoption. The hard nasal or broad pronunciation was the telltale mark of distinction. In spite of assiduous labor to ac- quire the soft intonations and the gen- tleness of speech of the native, he retained in a measure his own pecu- liar dialect; and it has always been said that a New Englander in the South could be easily distinguished by his brogue. How de do? Glad to see you ; Please walk in, would be the greeting in the home of the Northerner, while the Southern welcome would be: Delighted to see you ; Its so lovely in you to call ; Hows all the family ? The New Englanders good was the South- erner s nice, glad was happy, calculate was reckon, and pleas- ant was lovely. The home of the X ew Englander was To Let, xvhiie that of his Southern neighbor was For Rent. Gradually, however, the New Englander allowed his re- sistant nature to be influenced in a degree, and the plain, blunt trim- mings of his inheritance became somewhat smoothed by constant con- tact with other natures. Yielding to a force which he met with in his daily life, he was occasionally found adopt- ing the ways and customs of the South. His gastronomic tastes were frequently affected. He gave up beans, brown bread and doughnuts, substituting in his transition hominy, pone and crullers. He soon found luxury in canvasback and terrapin, and in the abundance of surrounding delicacies he sometimes developed into an epicure of alarming fertility, vying with his Southern friends in the extent and profusion of his hospi- tality. Not a few New Englanders drifted to Baltimore at the close of the Revo- lution; but it was after the opening of the new century that the full tide of emigration set in. From that time until the year 1835 the influx con- tinued, colonizing Baltimore with a New England population sufficient in number to emphasize strongly its habits and customs. Religious de- nominations holding the orthodox faith were augmented. The churches prevalent in Baltimore were Catholic, Episcopalian, Methodist and Baptist, and these received additions from northern migration. The Presbyte- rians of Maryland had a church or- ganization as early as the year 1715, and in 1751 Dr. Joseph Bellamy, a celebrated Presbyterian divine of the 222 NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. day, from Bethlehem, Connecticut, preached in Baltimore. The first Presbyterian church was erected in 1766. Unitarians and Universalists had no place of worship until the New England contingent became impor- tant. In the year i8i6 the wealthy and cultivated New England residents of the city invited the Rev. Dr. James Freeman, minister of Kings Chapel, Boston, to preach. Few of the Balti- moreans were then ready to receive the liberal views of Dr. Freeman, and every pulpit in the city was barred against this famous divine. A dancing hall was said to be good enough for the promulgation of his heretical doctrine. The reception of Dr. Freeman by the clergy of Baltimore was resented by his admirers, who gathered at the home of Mr. Henry Payson to con- sider the forming of a religious so- ciety for the accommodation of Christians who are Unitarians. The sum of fifty thousand dollars was at once guaranteed, to build the hand- somest church in The city. On June 5, 1817, the corner stone was laid. The First Independent Church of Baltimore now stands at the corner of Charles and Hamilton streets. The architect of the edifice was Max- amillian Godfrey, a Catholic, who also designed the cathedral in Balti- more, and, being inclined towards Roman architecture, patterned this church after the Pantheon. Within the last few years, owing to acoustic de- fects, the interior of the church has been remodelled in modern style, hid- ing the beautiful dome, which was once its chief feature. The first minister installed in this church was the Rev. Jared Sparks, a promising young graduate just from Harvard. He entered upon his duties in 1819, remaining until the year 1823, when, forced by failing health to resign, he returned to Boston, be- coming in 1849 president of Harvard College. Mr. Sparkss culture and intellectual attainments brought con- verts to the Unitarian view of re ligion from the ranks of the intellec- tual and cultivated, and a flourishing congregation was the immediate re- sult. Among the noted ministers partici- pating in the installation services of Mr. Sparks was the Rev. William Ellery Channing of Boston, whose memorable sermon on that occasion, defining a liberal faith, electrified the whole religious world by the clear- ness of its doctrine, and has continued in its contribution to the progress of modern religious thought. One of the earliest to establish a Northern enterprise in Baltimore was William Goddard, who came from Rhode Island in 1773 and published the first newspaper in Baltimore, the Maryland Journal and Baltimore Ad- vertiser, issued once a week, which, continued up to the present time, is now the Baltimore American, ably conducted by General Felix Agnus. Mr. Goddard evidently did not inherit the sentimental love of liberty at that time prevailing in his native state, or else, as was more likely the case, he felt impelled by a desire to cause a sensation by irritating the public mind, which he did successfully by inopportune expressions through the columns of his paper, thus bringing censure from his patrons. His publi- cation of matter inimical to the cause of liberty brought instant indignant protests from the patriotic citizens of Baltimore, who compelled him to re- tract. The seditious Goddard evi- dently perceived the error of his way, for the paper was thereafter a firm supporter of the cause of freedom, and has been at all times since de- votedly loyal. After the Revolu- tionary War Mr. Goddard assisted in the establishment of post office routes throughout the country. He then resigned the editorial chair to his sis- ter, Miss Mary Goddard, who was probably the first American woman to assume the arduous duties of jour- nalism, and who, it is said, ably filled the position. This lady afterwards took charge of the Baltimore post NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 223 office, discharging the many duties with credit to herself, satisfaction to the Baltimore public and honor to the department. It will be interesting to recall the fact that George Washington adver- tised in the Maryland Journal. He must have been not only an honored but a profitable patron, since his was the largest advertisement in the first issue, under date of August 20, 1773. The paper was a double sheet of four pages, each ten by sixteen inches, di- vided into three columns of printed matter. Washingtons advertisement occupied about two-thirds of a col- umn, and is dated Mt. Vernon in Virginia, July 15th, ~ He calls attention to his Having obtained Patents for upwards of Twenty Thou- sand Acres of Land on the Ohio and Great Kanhawa, or New River, which he offers to lease upon mod- erate terms, allowing a reasonable number of years rent free, provided within the space of two years from next October, three Acres for every fifty contained in each lot and propor- tionately for a lesser quantity shall be cleared, fenced and tilled, and that by or before the time limited for the first rent five acres for every hundred, and proportionately as above, shall be en- closed and laid down in good grass for meadows, and moreover, that at least Fifty good fruit trees for every like quantity of land shall be planted on the premises. The advertise- ment then relates that these lands are among the first surveyed in the part of the country they lie in, call- ing attention to the easy communi- cation via Potowmack, Monongabela and Cheat Rivers to Fort Pitt on the Ohio, suggesting that it is thought the portage between the Potowmack and the Monongabela may, and will be, reduced within the compass of a few miles to the great ease and con- venience of the settlers in transport- ing the produce of their land to market. Referring to the moderate terms, the advertisement continues: As no right money is to be paid for these lands, and quit-rent of two shil- lings sterling, a hundred demandable some years hence only, it is highly presumable they will always be held upon a more desirable footing than where bath these are laid on with a very heavy hand. In addition to other inducements to buy these wild lands of the uninhabited West, the ad- vertisement continues: It may not be amiss further to observe that if the scheme for establishing a new gov- ernment on the Ohio in the manner talked of should ever be effected, these must be among the most val- uable lands in it, not only on account of the goodness of the soil, and the other advantages above numerated, but from their contiguity to the seat of the government, which more than probable will be fixed at the mouth of the Great Kanhawa. Signed, GEORGE WASHINGTON. In the same paper appears the ad- vertisement of one Thomas Brereton, commission and insurance broker, shrewdly combining the policy of supply and demand, for he states: I have now for sale a Pocket of good Hops, a io inch new Cable, and want to buy a Negro girl about 12 years old. A large number of those who came to Baltimore from the New England states were young men without capi- tal or money, but gifted with brains and the faculty to use them. Among this class were many who in the sub- stantial attainments of wealth and wis- dom are now accounted among Balti- mores best citizens, bountifully using their means for the good of the city or benefiting it by wise counsel. The trades and professions were largely ornamented by the successful career of New Englanders, developing bright examples in the fields of literature, philanthropy, patriotism and science. Some of them attained more than local distinction, rising to a position of na- tional fame, embracing such distin- guished names as George Peabody, Dr. Nathan R. Smith, Almira Lincoln Phelps and Daniel C. Gilman. 224 ~EW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. In her institutions of learning, Bal- timore is much indebted to New Eng- land, and private schools of renown were kept during the present century by John PrenPce, Sebastian Streeter, Snamah and Asher Clark, Nathaniel and Horace Morison, who had much to do with forming the character and shaping the career of the young men and maidens of the South. Their names are held in reverence and cher- ished with happy memories by many whose thoughts revert to their inter- esting school days. It is a noteworthy fact that Joseph Cushing, who instituted the Baltimore public school system, and James Dall, whose contribution of four thousand dollars so largely aided in its estab- lishment, were both New Englanders. Enoch Pratt supplemented the success of these schools by his gift of a public library; while a New England man, Daniel C. Gilman, universally known as a leader in educational work, is to- day the first president of the Johns Hopkins University, the uride of Bal- timore, ranking with the foremost in- stitutions of this country and of Europe. The philanthropist and renowned American, George Peabody, to whose memory nations paid tribute, virtually began his business career in Balti- more. Here was laid the foundation for the immense fortune that brought to him so great a pleasure in its dis- tribution during his own lifetime for the good of his fellow man. After an early apprenticeship of four years with a grocer in his native town of South Danvers, followed by two years as a clerk in his brothers store at New- bury, Massachusetts, young Peabody in 1813, at the age of seventeen, went to Georgetown. District of Columbia, entering the service of his uncle in the dry goods business. The following yearhe established the firm of Peabody and Riggs. Ambitious for a wider field, at the end of a twelvemonth the firm removed to Baltimore, entering into a wholesale general merchandise business, which was continued twenty- one years. During this period Mr. Pea- body made several trips to England, and in 1836 established himself in London. He was appointed financial agent for the state of Maryland, and personally upheld the ~credit of the state by staying a popular and suicidal policy of repudiation and securing a loan of eight millions, an act upon which he risked his whole fortune, and one for whh~h all Marylanders should be forever grateful. Mr. Peabody cherished the fondest recollections for the business and social ties made in Baltimore, and the sincerity and depth of his love, as well as the evidence of his high opinion of the initellectual cul- ture and refinement of its people, were shown in his special gift to the city. The Peabody Institute, across whose portals the statue of Washington, cap- ping a superb shaft, throws its shadow. is a splendid marble structure in Italian Renaissance style. This tem- ple of literature and art is situated on the summit of the most central eleva- tion in the city, exposed to the hand- some open parks of Washington and Mount Vernon places, which are or- namented by the works of Barye. Rinehart and Story, and surrounded by homes of architectural beauty and richness. The success of the Peabody insti- tute is largely due to the wise manage- ment of its first provost, Dr. Nathaniel Holmes Morison, who came to Balti- more from Peterborough, New Hamp- shire, in 1839. His work, in conjunc- tion with the spirit of its founder, placed the munificent gift of George Peabody to the city of Baltimore among the celebrated institutions of the world. The selection of Dr. Mon- son as chief executive of the Peabody Institute was not made on account of his experience in such work, but it was proven that no better choice could have been made. A personal ac- quaintance on the part of most if not all of the board of trustees of the In- stitute allowed them to estimate his fitness for the place, and they unani- mously invited him to it. With a NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 225 natural modesty Dr. Morison hesi- tated to accept the proffered honor, believing the undertaking required a special training. He yielded, how- ever, to the urgent requests of his many friends. Giving up a remunera- tive private enterprise in the full tide of success, and for which he had a special fondness, he entered in 1867 upon his new work. At the period BETTYS covE. when Dr. Morison assumed his duties at the Peabody In- stitute, he had ac- quired, by a long life of patient, devoted and methodical work, a competency that would allow freedom from the real drudgeries of life, giving him relief fromworkhe had con- stantly followed, which at that time of his life he had justlyearned. Hechose, however, to give his services for the public good, and his work, faithfully done, as he himself says, with years of the severest labor I have ever per- formed, is a valuable tribute to his memory. The growth of the library through the painstaking labor of Dr. Morison would alone entitle him to great credit; but the library catalogue, nearing completion at the time of his death in 1890, was really the culmi- nating success of his life. In his desire to make the catalogue a model of per- fection he had spent many years of mental and physical strength. It re- ceived the highest praise from schol- ars in this country, as well as from those in foreign lands. He left it a valuable legacy to posterity. Dr. Mon- son, with his scholarly attainments, contributed bountifully to the educa- tional improvement of Baltimore. The result of his work was manifest in the cultured homes of the city pre- sided over by the well educated women who had graduated from his successful school. His work, con- tinned so unselfishly and so undemon- stratively through life, did not receive real public appreciation until it was stopped; then was it realized how val- nable was his labor and how great a loss had come to the community. Among those bringing from New England a ripe intelligence and a bril- liant mind to mingle with the labor and zeal of the busy men from the same place was the Rev. George W. Burnap. He came as pastor of the Unitarian Church in 1828, succeeding the Rev. Jared Sparks, who, on ac 226 NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. ney, who came to Baltimore from Massachusetts in 1834, by his com- prehensive enter- prise aided in giving a wide ce- lebrity to the iron products of Mary- land. At the early period when Mr. Stickney came to Baltimore, Eng- 1 i s h hardware greatly superseded that of American make. His first veuture was to establish himself as the distributing FIRST II PENDENT tUNITARIAN) CHURCH. agent of exclu count of ill health, had been forced to sively American hardware manufac- resign. This was Dr. Burnaps first turers. WiVh his excellent business aud only pastorate. A Harvard Uni- qualifications, he built up a large busi- versi(ty graduate, coming to Balti- ness, which started him well on a suc- more at the age of twenty-six, he con- cessful career. By his promptness in tinned in devoted service for thirty- recognizing and cultivating opportuni- two years among those by whom he ties, Mr. Stickney was soon found was greatly loved and venerated, giving his attention to the coal and With a stern conviction of his own iron products of the state. Later on form of religious faith, Dr. Buruap he became interested as part owner devoted himself with unyielding power and business manager of several com- during his long ministry to its devel- panies, where his wise counsel and opment and advancement. In addi- good judgment secured successful re-- tion to recognized scholarly attain- sults, bringing distinctiQn to himself ments, Dr. Burnap showed a deep in- terest in the general welfare and progress of the city; he placed himself in sympathetic touch with its active daily life, and was always an earnest advocate and a firm supporter of any public movement that promised to ad- vance the interest of Baltimore. He was a member of the original board of trustees of the Peabody Institute, the only clergyman chosen by Mr. Peabody for that purpose. His death in 1859 was lamented as that of a pub- lic benefactor. Many of the present important in- dustries contributing to the prosperity of the state were organized and devel- oped by the individual efforts of New England men. Mr. J. Henry Stick- JARED SPARKS. NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 227 and credit to the community in which he lived. Mr. Stickney, through a long residence, became closely identi- fied with Baltimore and its institu- tions. Still he continued to his death strongly attached to his early New England associations. He was a col- lector of literature and relics pertain- ing to New England colonial history, and took a great personal interest, as- sisting financially in improving Pil grim Hall, at Plymouth, the reposi- tory of relics of the Mayflower time. He was one of the vice-presidents of the Pilgrim Society. Mr. Stickney was a generous contributor to the agencies of the Congregational church, and helped largely in providing for the es- tablishment of a handsome church structure in Baltimore. Chauncey Brooks, who came to Baltimore in 1822 from Connecticut, performed good service in the ad- vancement of Baltimores mercantile interests. At that time the Alle- ghanies presented an almost insur- mountable barrier to the movements of trade, and indicated positive re- striction to growth in population. Mr. Brooks, with keen, foreseeing eye, en- tered into the development of a west- ern trade. His close identity with the mercantile interests of the new coun- try naturally led him to promote methods of reaching and penetrating it. A railroad over the mountains, with steam for the propelling power, was looked upon by many as the idle dreani of an enthusiast. Mr. Brooks PEABODY INSTITUTE. GEORGE PEABODY. 228 NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. ~0UTHERN HOME. contributed both energy and money towards the enterprise of building the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. He was for several years upon the board of directors, becoming in J856 its fifth president. It was during his term in i857that thecelebrated railroad ridt occurred, which his personal courage and influence contrib- uted greatly to suppress. Mr. Brooks was the intimate friend of George Peabody, being one of the twenty-five gentlemen constituting the original board of trustees selected by Mr. Peabody for the Institute. The growth and improve- ment in cotton manufactures throughout the state have been materially extended by the en- terprise of Northerners. James S. Gary, with a practical knowl- edge of cotton manufacturing learned in the Northern mills, came to Baltimore as a young man in 1838. Intelligent ideas and good business qualifica- tions brought success to his un- dertakings. He died leaving a large fortune and an extensive business, inherited by his only son, Hon. James A. Gary, the late Postmaster General. Dur- ing the civil war both father and son maintained a determined at- titude in support of the govern- ment, contributing liberally in money, and also in helping to care for the multitude of North- ern soldiers who passed through Baltimore. Inheriting the stanch Whig and Union pro- pensities of his father, Mr. James A. Gary became the recognized leader and generous supporter of the Republican party in Mary- land. The reward for long and faithful service came to him with his appointment to the cabinet of President McKinley. In the list of eminent scholars who have served in adding lustre to the educational history of Baltimore will be found a New England woman whose fame spread over the entire country. Almira Lincoln Hart Phelps, who was born in Berlin, Connecticut, came of a renowned family. In 1841, Mrs. Phelps, after several years A TYPICAL NEW ENGLAND HOME. NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 229 of successful teaching in the North, assumed charge of the Patapsco Institute near Baltimore, where she accomplished the great work of her life as an educator, attaining a na- tional reputation shared only by her cultivated and noted sister, Mrs. Emma Willard. Her scientific and literary labors were remarkable. IViany of her works upon different sub- jects have become standard school text-books. She published several novels of merit, besides many lectures upon chemistry, botany and physics, and essays upon scientific and national subjects that brought her distinction as a woman of rare intellectual capacity. One New Englander living in Balti- more the larger part of a long life of four score and ten years made a large contribution to the citys general ad- vance in finance and philanthropy. The accomplishments of Enoch Pratt marked him as a man of sagacity and wisdom. Born in North Middleborough, Massa- chusetts, in i8o8, coming to Baltimore in 1831, he at once entered upon a business career scarcely interrupted in the long period ending with his death in September, 1896, at the age of eighty-eight. Transferred at a susceptible age from a country town to a brilliant and social city, he never lost or surren- dered his inherited characteris- tics, but, while becoming a thorough Baltimorean in inter- est and sympathy, he continued to the end what he styled the plain New England way of doing things. At the time of his death he was the active president of the Farmers and Planters Bank, the soundest in- stitution of its kind in the city, with which he had been con- nected for forty-seven years; and as officer or director he was closely identified with many moneyed and philanthropic in- stitutions which he either pro- moted or materially assisted finan- cially. His many and varied inter- ENOCn FKATT. ENOCH PRATT FREE LIBRARY. 230 NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. Georges county, for the purpose. He was made president of its board of managers, retaining the office until his death. In the conduct of its affairs he was as careful and exacting as if it had been a private enterprise of his own. This institution, which has been in existence twenty-five years, is the only one in the United States caring exclusively for colored boys. Mr. Pratts most munificent gift was the public library which he built and presented to the city of Baltimore in 1882, supplementing this generous act by adding his own checks aggre- gating one million three hundred thou- sand dollars. The Enoch Pratt Free Library of Baltimore has now 150,000 volumes. It has many branches throughout the city, each an inde- pendent building of handsome design, furnishing a convenience for the pub- lic not surpassed in any other Amen- ests received his personal attention can city. up to the last. A frail body carried The final act of considerate gener- a clear and vigorous mind, permitting osity by Mr. Pratt was contained in its possessor to complete to a finish his will, by which the Shephard Asy- all his worldly affairs with that same mm of Baltimore received as a legacy precision that characterized a business the sum of one million dollars. But deal of his halcyon days. Though his Mr. Pratts gifts were not alone con- habits were not miserly or penurious, fined to his adopted city. He remem- they were frugal, while many of his bered his native town and state by economical methods bordered upon endowing the academy of the former the eccentric,for example, the prac- with the sum of thirty thousand dol- tice of reversing envelopes received in lars, and presenting Meadville Theo- correspondence. His personal econo- my enabled him to give liberally to many public enterprises; in fact, he distributed during his lifetime a large part of his great xvealth, thus becom- ing his own executor. To the church of his faith in Baltimore the Unita- rianhe was for a period of more than fifty years a generous giver. He pre- sented the Maryland Academy of Sci- ences with the commodious and con- venient building it now occupies. He always manifested a warm interest in the welfare of the negroes. When the state of Maryland was induced to make an appropriation for the main- tenance of a reformatory for colored boys, Mr. Pratt gave Chellenham, a fine farm of 752 acres in Prince N. I-I. MORISON. ALMIRA LINCOLN HART PHELPS. NEW ENGLAND IN BALTIMORE. 231 logical Seminary with a hundred thou- sand dollars. Besides all this, he left gifts to churches in need and to many other worthy objects. A personal friend of Mr. Peabody, Mr. Pratt was selected as a trustee of the Peabody Institute, and was for many years its treasurer, continuing those duties while directing and managing, as president of the board of trustees, the affairs of that institution which was his own generous creation. Unmistakable New England names appear all through the present cen- turys history of Baltimore closely identified with its development. Na- thaniel Williams, a successful member of the bar, was sent to the State As- sembly in i8ii, be- coming afterwards assistant attorney general of the state. Henry Pay- son, a prosperous merchant, with others, organized the Merchants Exchange, and was one of the incor- porators of the first savings bank in Baltimore, insti- tuted in i8i8; Mr. Payson was also one of the conimittee ~n charge of the monument erected in memory of those who fell in defence of the city, September 12, 1814. Amos A. Williams, Captain Isaac Phillips, Charles Appleton, William C. Shaw, Leonard Jarvis, William E. Mayhew, Osmond C. Tiffany, Thomas Whit- ridge and J. Henry Stickney, New Englanders, each of whom occupied positions of honor and trust, were generous contributors to the private and public institutions of religion and charity that so numerously abound in Baltimore. Scarcely a banking insti- tution, savings bank, insurance com- pany or any organization requiring capital, formed in Baltimore during this century, but may be found among its directors or managers more or less the names of men from New England. New Englanders were conspicuous in their participation in the onward march of the growing city, at a period which promised for it a brilliant des- tiny. The tributaries of trade and traffic secured by its geographical po- sition were the prospering South, where riches easily secured were freely dispensed, and the broad devel- oping West, where pioneers were al- ready pushing the way for armies of settlers. Balti- more at that time seemed the El Do- rado of the west- ern continent. Sagacious North- erners entered the field as workers and helpers, doing their share in stimulating its ad- vance to a point of prosperous ex- istence whereby it is classed in the group of interest- ing American cities. Thus did a past generation of sturdy men from a northern clime con- tribute to an enterprising town of the South a powerful influence in shaping its destiny, whereby it became a leading commercial city, whose conservative business methods and sound financial theories are avouched by the fact that it has not had a bank failure for up- wards of sixty years. New England- ers strengthened the sinews and in- creased the commercial substance of the city of their adoption, and, with an almost universal acquirement of wealth, created a unique social com- munity, refined and cultured, distinct- ly recognized as New England Balti- more. DANIEL COLT GILMAN. GREAT WHITE DOMES AGAINST THE BLUE. A CHAPTER ON NORWAY. THE peninsula of Scandinavia is a unique geographical expres- sion on the face of the globe. About a third, roughly speaking; or, to be accurate, 112,71 I square miles of it equal to twice the area of Eng- landis separated from Sweden by a noble range of mountains, i,6oo feet high by I,ooo miles long, and is called Norway. Three hundred miles of its northern portion lie well within the Arctic Circle, marking the highest point of inhabited Europe, while it ex- tends southward into the North Sea, its western coast washed by the Arctic and Atlantic oceans. Statistics fur- nish the information that Norway is from 70 to 280 miles broad by 1,100 long; that it has a population of 2,000,000; that its greatest elevation is 8,i6i feet, more than 5,000 of that being above the perpetual ice line; that the sea extends enormously long arms into the land, and that these arms are supplemented by appendages which might be called fingers, and make a map of the country look like groups of cuttlefish. Notwith- standing the wide territorial range of the country, the climate is not unlike that of Quebec; indeed the temper- ature marks thirty degrees higher and is more equable than that of other Eu- ropean countries lying in correspond- ing latitudes. This is owing to a beneficent sweep laudward of the Gulf Stream, which is an unqualified boon, as the sun begins to drop out of sight by the first of August and is never seen at all at the North Cape from November i8 to January 24. For centuries Norways history was closely identified with that of Den- mark; but in 1814, as one of the re- sults of the overturning of thrones and kingdoms by Napoleon I, Russia laid violent hands upon her neighbor, and in some jugglery of trade handed her over to Sweden. It is not within the scope of this article to detail Nor- ways resistance to this lawless pro- ceeding, but it was sufficiently cogent to warn Sweden that compromise was wiser than continued force, and a modified union was effected between the two countries. General Berna- dotte of the French army had become King Carl XIV, and he subscribed to a constitution drawn up by his new subjects themselves, declaring Nor- way free, inalienable and indivisible. They were very punctilious too about minor matters, insisting that, in sign- ing papers relating exclusively to their affairs, the sovereign should re- verse his titles and appear as King of Norway and Sweden. They had their own national banner, but a mark of union, consisting of a dash of yel- low color, was for prudential reasons introduced in the flags floating above their merchant marine. This mark has always been a source of irrita- tion to the Norwegians, as also has the fact that the foreign minister must be chosen from the Swedes. The poet Bjdrnstjerne Bjdrnson is a leader of the democracy, and it is, in part at least, owing to his steady agitation of the subject that at last a flag purged of the union sign and called by them a clean flag has been agreed upon and hoisted at their mainmasts. The other matter is still in abeyance and causes more and more friction. The present king, Oscar II, a grandson of Bernadotte, is an elderly man, both beloved and esteemed by his people and regarded with respect by all the world as a just, moderate and unusually cultivated man. In 1536 the Roman Catholic Church was superseded by the Lu- theran. There is more ceremony and 233 234 A CHAPTER OF NORWAY. SOME OF THE DIFFICULTIES pageantry connected with the worship than is usual in Protestant churches of that faith elsewhere. Upon occasions the priests wear the scarlet surplice with gold lace and symbolic embroideries. The corn- munion is administered with a consecrated wafer. Seats in the chnrches are specially provided for the aged, that, being well in front, no word need be lost by those hard of hearing. These bald statistics probably enter not at all into the account of the 5o,- 000 annual tourists in Norway. Over and above such facts are the grandeur and ineffable beauty of the scenery, due to the marvellous configuration of land and water. The length of the peninsula is stated as 1,100 miles, but the vast indenting fjords multiply the coast line by two. The water of these fjords is much deeper than that on the opposite coast of England, while the precipitous shores of the long aisles tower into the sky,great white domes against the blue. When the sun appears, the surface of the snow begins to melt and the rugged face of the cliffs is veiled by gossamer falls in myriad numbers. These channel the rock and thread the ruts with silver, and like a million tinkling chisels cut fantastic architecture or noble or grotesque shapes from the solid stone. Until about ten years ago the principal travel came from England and America via the North Sea, the small boats then in useso-called yachtsbeing specially well adapted to the nar- row water ways or fjords fringing the scarf-like peninsula. Now great ships like the Augusta Victoria sail from New York to Hamburg, thence to Spitzbergen, taking Norway en route. If Norway is approached from OVERCOME BY THE ENGINEER CORPS. A CHAPTER OF NORWAY. 235 either of these directions, the scenic beauty begins to nnfold at once, and if the proper moment be chosen from the middle of May to the last of July the effects are greatly height- ened by the prolongation of daylight as one travels northward. It is safe to say that the delights of this journey are among the greatest in human ex- perience. Norways situation is, as- tronomically considered, most inter- esting. The unending twilights of the snmmer in the south, the full light of day at midnight in the north, furnish variety and peculiarities exceeding any of the kind known to travellers elsewb ere. The Norwegians have been quick to avail themselves of the advantages accruing to their conntry by foreign travel, and with marvellous engineer- ing skill have constrncted highways that are models for far older condi- tions. The foundations are laid with BRIDGE5 BOTH 5TRAIGHT AND CURVED. SIXTEEN ZIGEAGS OR SWITCHBACKS ARE REQUIRED. A CHAPTER OF NORWAY. 23~7 great care, several layers of stone of different sizes being compactly pnt into an excavation, with a top dress- ing of very hard and sifted stone and over all a deposit of screened gravel. The centre snrf ace is raised and ronnded, while paved ditches and cul- verts afford ample drainage. The steepest regnlar grade is fonr hnndred feet to the mile, bnt eight hnndred feet is reached on the remarkable road from Narodal to Stallheim, where sixteen zigzags or switchbacks are reqnired. Tnnnels, projections on the face of the precipice, snpported by gigantic walls of masonry rnnning down for solid fonndations to nn- gnessed depths, bridges straight and cnrved over ravines of incredible depth,these are some of the difflcnl- ties overcome by the engineer corps. It goes withont saying that the ex- pense of this road bnilding mnst fall largely npon the state, bnt the taxa- tion is cheerfnlly met for the nltimate general good. The roads often cross themselves, and as the snmmit is neared one can look back npon tier after tier of his npward path. Espe- cially is this the case at Stallheim. The N~erodal lies shnt in by lofty monn- tains and cliffs 2,000 feet high, over which fall the most exqnisitely lacy effects of water. To the left rises the magnificent gray feldspar cone of Jordalsnnt 3,600 feet, and to the right Kaldafyeld 4,265 feet. Quite unlike this tacking drive is that through Romsdal, the dale of the river Ranma, inasmnch as this latter is on the floor of the valley,more like that along the Merced in the Yo- semite, for instance. The great thnmb of the Romsdalshorn pierces the sky 5,000 feet above the road. Its sheer sides show marks of grinding ice, and the seams and scars of thonsands of years of snow and frost; bnt it is most beautifnlly softened by nnmberless waterfalls, weeping their fleecy films THE ROADS OFTEN CR055 THEMSELVES. 238 A CHAPTER OF NORWAY. from ledge to ledge, from crag to crag. Patches of vivid green lurk in sunny corners, sheets of bluest hare- bells nod on the shrinking edges of snowdrifts, white, purple and yellow pansies lift pencilled eyebrows from crowds of droll little Stiefrn~itterchen faces. A specially lustrous foliage quivers on birchen stems, the whole picture being bathed in the clearest of translucent atmospheres. It is de- lightful thus to bowl along seated in the quaint cariole or stolikyarre, drawn by stout little ponies. At the end of the drive there is usually clean and comfortable provi- sion for the inner man. Some of the hostelries have waitresses dressed in the costume of the district. The colors are bright, and waists and chemisettes spangled with gay beads. The silver chains and ear ornaments are also very dressy and picturesque. The cottages are small and rude but invariably clean. They are mostly thatched with sods on which grass is growing and upon which again goats are feeding. There is always a cat, and usually a little girl with blonde braids down her back, who smile- lessly offers stravTherries or a posy. All the people look well and hearty, but rather melancholy, as they well may, shut out from sunlight for weeks and months together. Their lives too are full of venturesome toil. Their tilting farms are small in those moun tainous districts, the sun?imer is brief, and altogether agri- culture must be a slow paymaster. The hay must be dried on fences in default of fields big enough to spread it in; the bundles of it and the milk and other soeter, or hill- farm products, are sent down to mar- ket by means of wires stretched for the purpose. The young shepherds and shepherdesses live lonely lives, uncompanioned save by their flocks at night. The habitans are much attached to their homes, as all hill people are well known to be. It would seem as if the Norwegians, hemmed in by mountains and oceans, might have been content to consider themselves a peculiar people, and, as if Nature had a purpose in thus isolat- ing them, she had provided that re- markable outlying rampart of rocky islands from end to end of the fjord- cut coast. But in spite of, perhaps be- cause of, these natural defences the mariners early learned to dash out upon their neighbors, plunder their coasts, and sail quickly home again. This sport they named Straandhu~, and the players Vikings. It seemed to the surrounding nations, and par- ticularly to the French, that these troublesome visitors emerged from the waves to ravage their country, de- spoil the churches, sack towns and then disappeared as mysteriously as they had come. Their warfare was carried on by surprises. Following the Loire they arrived at Tours; ascending the Garonne, they pillaged Bordeaux and Toulouse; entering the Seine, they pushed to the gates of Paris. A com- promise was effected by giving the invaders the province of Neustria, which they renamed Normandy. They made it rich and populous. HAY MUST BE DRIED ON FENCES. 239 PROJECTIONS ON THE FACE OF THE PRECIPICE. RUGGED FACE OF TEE CLIFF VEILED BY GOSSAMER. 240 A CHAPTER OF NORWAY. 241 Generations came and went; then Robert, called the Devil, became Duke of Normandy, and father of William the Conqueror. Aniong the successful mariners was Eric Rufus, the discoverer of Greenland. His son, Lief, emulous of his fathers fame, and very likely in- heriting his fondness for adventure as well, decided to explore some islands of which he had heard from an Ice- lander. In the year iooo this young fellows craft had become separated from the fleet, and while endeavoring to rejoin his companions, he had seen numerous islands which he could not then investigate. This story fired the zeal of Lief, and he fitted out a vessel, manned by thirty-five men, and sailed southwesterly from Greenland. In due time he found the coast, as Bjdrn had described it, jutting out in three peninsulas,Newfoundland, N o v a Scotia and Cape Cod. This last he called Vineland. There is little doubt now that Lief Ericson was the first European to land on our shores, or that he made the first civilized foot- prints upon the sands of Massachu- setts Bay. Emigration from Norway began early, hundreds going to Iceland in a single year. Naturally in this direc- tion and at this distance it developed very slowly at first. In 1825 a party of fifty-three left Stavanger in the sloop, the Restauration; but seventy years later there were half as many Norwegians in the United States as in Norway itself. Wherever they have settled in this country their record has been that of brave, honest and in- dustrious citizens. They assimilate with us very readily, and have held good positions in state and national affairs. They have brought from their na- tive land the most excellent traditions in regard to education. The church ably seconds the state in that matter, as no candidate for confirmation is received until he has acquired an ele- mentary schooling, and religious in- struction is given in the common schools. Schools for training the sexes together are already estab- lished; the University at Chvistiania founded in i8i iadmits wome~ to full privileges. There are agricul- tural, military, technological, mining and drawing schools; there are learned societies and charitable insti- tutions for the blind, deaf and dumb, deformed and lepers. Ambulatory schools are arranged in sparsely set- tled regions, the teacher going from hamlet to hamlet, almost from house to house. Minneapolis, Minn., now numbers among its inhabitants more Scandina- vians than Christiania itself. A theo- logical seminary of the United Nor- wegian Church is soon to be estab- lished in that city, and on the campus is to be re~rected the first Norwegian Lutheran church building built in North America, which will be used as a chapel. The literary and artistic elements in Norway have always been in the van of freedom. Ole Bull would never float any but the pure Nor- wegian colors. Bj6rnstjerne Bjdrn- son was a strong opponent of the Union bill. He said: I will live in Norway, I will thrash and be thrashed in Norway, I will sing and die in Nor- xvay, of that you may be certain. Henrik Wergeland arranged for a celebration, not of the Union of Sweden and Norway, November 4, but of the adoption of Norways con- stitution, May 17. Henrik Ibsen said: An element of nobility must be in- troduced into our national life, into our parliament and into our press. Of course it is not nobility of birth that I am thinking of, nor of money, nor yet of knowledge, nor even of ability and talent, but of nobility of character, of will, of soul. Bergen, Stavanger and Trondhjem are, for that region, flourishing cities. They have liquor laws that many wise men among us think we should do well to copy. Only the state makes a profit on liquor, and that profit goes directly to works of public utility. 242 A CHAPTER OF NORWAY. Bergen has a fine road girdling the hills. It is called the Dramvei, and was built literally by the sales of drains. Of course Trondhjem is the city of the north. Its situation is on a line with the southern coast of Iceland. Its streets, broad and well paved with round cobbles, are drained by a longitudinal gutter running through the middle. An avenue shaded by quadruple rows of fragrant balsam willows leads to the noble cathedral, which from the time of its erection in the twelfth century to the Reforma- tion remained the metropolitan church of Norway. Thither then and now all her kings must come to be crowned. It has a peculiar deflection, which is explained by some writers as making the form of the cross in which the church is built suggest the cruci- fix. It is bent towards the eastas it is in the other similar examples known to exist, of which St. Denis near Paris is notableas if the head of the sufferer fell to the left. This cathedral is dedicated to St. Olaf, whose memory is similarly preserved in two churches in England. This one at Trondhjem is built of fine- grained, micaceous stone of a bluish green color. Notwithstanding the ravages of time, repeated earthquakes and lightning strokes, it still presents a lovely and dignified appearance. Its restoration, under the care of a Nor~ wegian architect, has been conducted in a masterly manner. The statue of the Christ, by Thorwaldsen, is given an artistic position. For years, centuries even, snow has been accumulating on the mountain tops of Norway. When the sun melts the surface, the water percolates through the mass, and when finally a portion of it is dislodged it plunges down, tears up the foundations of mountains, roots up forests, fills in lakes, picks up as its toys huge bowlders here, deposits tremendous blocks of earth there. Nothing can withstand its power. It cannot be checked nor avoided. These grandly slow moving masses, grinding, crack- ing, stretching, converging always toward the sea, are glaciers. They constitute the most visible creative act which we can ever witness. They lit- erally bring down the hills and raise the valleys. Some,like the terrible one of Svartisen,start from theicefjeldand continue their independent way till they break off with loud and dreadful detonations into a lashed and boiling sea. To establish an equilibrium their bulk invisible beneath the water must be eight times what it is above. The action of the sun causes constant melt- ing and therefore constant change in the centre of gravity. So they sail away majestically to meet extinction in warmer climes. Others, like the Buer-Bra~ (the largest in Europe), have not yet attained the sea, but send an advance messenger in the shape of an exquisite foaming river of a beauti- ful light green, rollicking through the dark green meadow grass of the longi- tudinal farms. To follow these tiny, ribbon-like rivers to their glacier sources is unalloyed joy. The sum- mer, short as it is, glows and throbs with beauty. The quality of the at- mosphere is of a clearness that brings distant objects deceitfully near. Each particle of the glacier is more beauti- ful than anything ~ciat man, with all his tools, has ever achieved. Even under a microscope the elegance of every crystalline form is perfection. The ice facets show brilliant and opaline colors, paling and flushing with every change in the long, slow sunset. With all this to delight the eye, the journey to the North Cape is not a gloomy one, neither, as might b esup- posed, is it a silent one. There are millions of gulls, the Bird Mountain (Svaerholtklubben) having been seem- ingly chosen for the breeding place of all the tribe. The vast preci- pice is literally alive with their white wings, and the myriad host look like snowflakes when theyrise atanyalarm. There is an occasional whale, dead or alive, the former being much in evi DOUBT IN HEAVEN. 243 dence in the neighborhood of an island sacred to the rites of the whale fishery. There are islands covered with the nests of the tender, motherly eider-duck, who helplessly denudes her soft breast for the rapacious hunter of eider-down. Then there are the Lapp encamp- ments, which are obligingly laid open for the travellers inspection. True, their Lares and Penates are little more than sun-dried fish and hides of reindeer. They are an inexpressive, stolid looking race. Nor is the rein- deer in their care an inviting object; but he is a necessity, for the Laplander eats his flesh, drinks his milk, wears his skin, lives under his hide and eats from spoons made of his horns. They are strong and fleet, and can travel nineteen miles per hour for three or four consecutive hours; but they have weak spines and are terribly obstinate. Then there are gay bridal parties skimming about the fjords; and the brides crown is a thing to see, far outshining the trumpery thing so jealously guarded in London Tower. There are shoals of jellyfish wavering up and down in the greenish water, there is always a hope of a sea serpent, every rock has its legend, every cliff its story. Trolls and fairies dwell in the mountains, and departed spirits revisit the waterfalls. The natural stone statue of Hestmando is said to bridle his steed with the Arctic Circle, and the mysterious perforated rock of Torghatten perpetuates a romantic story of love and adventure. Some- times a mirage adds to the uncanny effects of such very novel scenes, and a splendid pier rises and dissolves, dissolves and rises, before the aston- ished beholder, all the more as there is not a single real pier on that coast. Meantime the days lengthen and lengthenit is always light, there is no darkness. At last,in latitude 7J0 10 on the island M~gar6, the North Cape rises majestic and alone from the sea. At midnight the sun touches the horizon, drops his fiery rim upon the water line, poises, like a humming- bird for one breathless instant, then begins his daily ascent again. If the traveller stay here twenty-four hours he can see the sun circling like a bird; and farther north would be in his grand spiral movement on the horizon. DOUBT IN HEAVEN. By George Batchelor. FROM heavens windows looked I forth, and saxv In outer darkness scenes of grief and woe. The victims of Gods righteous, broken law In pain were wandering there, lamenting so And cursing those who chose the better part That, even in the light and joy of heaven, An awful weight of care fell on my heart, And veiled the glories of the circles seven. In doubt, I wondered how such things could be. Then, looking at the saints whom love had blessed, I asked if they were worthy, who could see Such shame and hopeless misery and rest, Or safe in heaven stay, and count the cost To light that awful gulf and save the lost. REQ U JESCAT. By Madison Cctwein. THE roses dream of her who sleeps Within the tomb, Of her for whom each flower weeps Dew and perfume. At morn the blossoms droop their heads Above neglected flower-beds, Around whose paths no more she treads In gleam and gloom. The breezes seem to grieve for her Whose life was brief; For her each tree is sorrower, Each tree and leaf. At noon the bowered silence sighs, And rocks itself in mournful wise, Within whose shade no more she lies In joy or grief. At dusk the sun is pale with care And sick with woe; The memory haunts it of her hair, Her hairs soft glow. No more within the bramble brake The sleepy rose is kissed awake; The sun is sad for her dear sake, Whose head lies low. The bird, that sang so oft, is still At dusk and dawn; No more it makes the woodland shrill, The wood and lawn. In vain the buds, when it is near, Open their rosy ears to hear The song it warbled for her ear Who now is gone. Ah, well she sleeps who loved them well, The birds and bowers; The fair, the sweet, the lovable, Who once was ours. Alas, that loveliness must pass, Must come to lie beneath the grass, That youth and joy must fade, alas, And die like flowers! 244 \\J ~e1k~cussed in these pages a or more ago the question of tenement house reform and better homes for the people. We spoke of the crusade upon which the Twentieth Century Club of Boston had entered in behalf of this great cause in Boston. The earnest effort of these Boston men and women has just culminated in a Tenement House ex- hibition, in connection with which there has been held a series of confer- ences and public discussions of the various phases of the housing prob- 1cm. This exhibition has been pre- pared in co6peration with the Tene- ment House Committee of the Charity Organization Society of New York; and the exhibition was held for a fort- night in New York before its week in Boston. The exhibition included models, plans, photographs, maps, charts and tables of statistics, showing existing conditions in Bos1ton and New York tenement houses; model tenements all over the world; health conditions, poverty conditions and agencies for betterment; competitive plans for model tenements, parks and play grounds. The exhibition was prepared for the purpose of stimulat- ing interest in the question of tene- ment house reform and better homes for the poor, by placing before the public in concrete form a clear and comprehensive statement and exhibit of existing conditions, so that intelli- gent action may be taken to remedy them and to prevent their recurrence. It is the duty of every citizen inter- ested in the welfare of the community to familiarize himself with the condi- tions under which decent and respec- table workingmen and their families are forced to live: and this exhibition made it easy for the people of New York and Boston to gain such knowl- edge. By far the greater portion of the exhibition consisted of photographs showing the conditions in various European and American cities. Ger- many and France were but slightly represented; but a great number of pictures illustrated th~ important work which is being done in the cities of Great Britain, in Edinburgh, Glas- gow, Manchester, Birmingham and especially London. The work of great private companies in providing model tenements in and about London, giv- ing the working classes quarters that are comfortable and attractive in place of the wretched dens for which they have been paying equal rent, has been extensive; but in London as well as in other British cities the municipal gov- ernment itself has taken hold of the matter in a way yet undreamed of in our American cities. Many of these municipal enterprises, as well as build- ings like the Peabody tenements in London, were well repxeaented in this exhibition. Of American cities, aside from New York and Boston, only Philadelphia, Baltimore and Chicago were repre- sented, and these not in an important way. The conditions in New York and Boston were brought before the visitor very thoroughly. A mass of East Side pictures showed the tragical character of the problem proposed to the New York reformer; but the illus- trations of the admirable model tene- ments built by Mr. White in Brook- lyn, some of them more than twenty years ago, the Cutting buildings, and, best of all, the tenements of the City and Suburban Homes Company, show 245 46 EDITORS TABLE. that New York is attacking this prob- lem of the better housing of the work- ing people in a positive and construc- tive manner. * * * In Boston, although the work of the Co6perative Building Company and other parties has been excellent and its success for the most part encourag- ing, but little has been done in the way of building model tenements and lodgings compared with what has been done in New York. The prob- lem in Boston is indeed a smaller one. The very extent of the tenement house area in New York and the mul- titude and complexity of the popula- tion involved are so appalling that one is filled with admiration at the hope- fulness and confidence of Mr. Riis and his brave associates after their lon~r years of battle with the slum. With the best public sentiment for which the New York reformers have any right to hope, with building laws framed after their own heatts, with officials in the Board of Health and elsewhere who are thoroughly alive to their duty, anxious to cobperate in- stead of ingenious to invent excuses for inertia and delay, and with ten times the present capital placed in the hands of Dr. Gould and his friends for building model tenements, it will be long indeed before the housing prob- lem in New York can be solved in any thorough or satisfactory way. In Boston the case is very different. There is no reason why the slum in Boston should not be extirpated alto- gether at an early day. There is no other great city in Amerka xvhere the conditions for bringing about this de- sirable result are so simple and easy; and Boston should mak~ herself an example to America and the world of a great city whose people are all housed under decent conditions. The slum areas are small in extent, and every citizen may grasp intelligently the details of the probleml The laws for the abolition of unsanitary tene- ments are drastic and adequate, and nothing but the support of an ener- getic public sentiment is necessary to secure their thorough enforcement by the Board of Health, which during- the last two years, in the face of much op- position on the part of landlords, has done most praiseworthy work. Inter- est in the matter of model tenements has been well awakened, especially by the recent exhibition and conferences, and there is no reason why large Bos- ton capital should not soon be enlisted in work such as the City and Subur- ban Homes Company is doing so ex- tensively in New York, and as the Co- operative Building Company has done so well in Boston itself. * * * The work of the City and Suburban Homes Company marks a radical ad- vance in the construction of improved dwellings for the working people in America. This company was organ- ized in 1896, with a capital of one mil- lion dollars. It was by no means the first organization of its kind in New York. The Improved Dwellings As- sociation and the Tenement House Building Company are of consider- ably older date; and we have referred to the extensive work of Mr. White in Brooklyn. The business of the new company was defined as being to offer to capital a safe and permanent five per cent investment, and at the same time to supply to wage earners improved, wholesome homes at cur- rent rates. The president of the com- pany is Dr. E. R. L. Gould. It was to his initiative that the company owed its existence, and is to his wis- dom that its splendid management and its success are chiefly due. There is no man in America who has given more earnest attention to the whole matter of better homes for the people, or who has larger knowledge of what has been done in this direction the world over, than Dr. Gould. It was ne who was chosen by the United States Commissioner of Labor to pre- pare the report upon The Housing of the Working People, which, with EDITORS TABLE. 247 its wealth of pictures, plans and statis- tics of every sort, is the best general survey of tenement house conditions and the various enterprises for their improvement, in both American and European cities. As president of the New York company, Dr. Gould has had opportunity to put his expert knowledge and good theories into practice. The company stands for investment philanthropy. The idea of charity, in the common ac- ceptance of the term, has never en- tered into the calculations of officers or directors. On the other hand, the largest possible economic outcome has been equally ignored. Dividends are limited to five per cent, and five per cent and a surplus have been earned. The effort has been made to enlist the interest and investment of people of small means, as well as those of large capital. The company de- sires to place within the reach of all who prefer, other things being equal, to invest their means for useful ends, a sound security; particularly the savings of the masses ought to be utilized more than they are at present for their direct benefit. Accordingly the companys shares are fixed at the low denomination of ten dollars each, in order to attract people of modest means. The company has under- taken the building up of a village in the suburbs of Brooklyn, to which it has given the name of Homewood, where a large number of attractive cottages have already been built, which the tenants are purchasing on easy monthly payments. Several blocks of model tenements, contain- ing nearly four hundred apartments of two, three and four rooms, have been built in NeW York City itself; and there are probably no better model tenements in the world. With refer- ence to the financial side of enter- prises of this character, Dr. Gould spoke as follows at one of the con- ferences in connection with the recent Tenement House exhibition in New York: Will improved housing pay? It will. Hew do ~ve know it? It has paid and is paying to-day and right here in New York. Upwards of one hundred millions of dollars have been invested in improved housing in the largest European and American cities, and eighty-eight per cent, that is, eighty- eight millions of dollars, is now earning and always has earned a commercial profit. Six per cent, that is, six millions of dollars, has returned a savings bank rate of interest, and only six millions out of the whole one hundred millions has been invested less profitably. The splendid efforts of Mr. Alfred T. White and his associates in Brooklyn, be- gun about twenty years ago, have uniform- ly been rewarded to the extent of between five and six per cent per annum. The Im- proved Dwellings Association, founded by such gentlemen as the Messrs. Fulton and Bayard Cutting, Samuel D. Babcock and the late Cornelius Vanderbilt, has distrib- uted to its shareholders five per cent, and accumulated a fair-sized surplus during the seventeen years of its activity. The splendid beneficence of Mr. D. 0. ~Mills in his model lodging houses, dealing with a somewhat different problem although close- ly connected with improved housing, de- ruonstrates how closely philanthropy and sound business can be united. The City and Suburban Homes Company, the new- est and largest of New Yorks improved housing enterprises, has been able to earn fully five per cent upon its improved tene- ments. One of the great English com- panies, a company with investments aggre- gating upwards of thirteen millions of dol- lars, pays steadily four and one-half per cent upon its preferred shares and five per cent upon its common. Another London company, with an immense capital, pays uniformly five per cent, and has done so for many years. Improving the homes of the people should not be regarded as a question of philanthropy. It is a matter of business; and sound organization and proper management are as certain to yield satisfactory commercial results as in any other line of enterprise~ where the invest- ment is as safe. * * * We ask special attention to this word, because, in the lack of disposi- tion here to take up the work of tene- ment house reform and the provision of dwellings by municipalities them- selves, as is now being done so exten- sively in English. cities, we believe tbat the encouragement of enterprises in Boston and elsewhere such as that which Dr. Gould is conducting so suc- cessfully in New York is the thing of 248 EDITORS TABLE. fundamental importance. That these model tenements are popurar with those for whom they are designed is proved by the waiting list of eager ap- plicants; and that the investment is a safe and good one, viewed strictly from the business standpoint, seems beyond doubt. We believe that this needs only to be brought home to s& rne of our rich men with sufficient frequency and force, to secure the or- ganization in Boston of strong com- panies to take up the work. If the re- cent exhibit and conferences at the Twentieth Century Club give impetus to a movement in this direction, they will have served their best possible end. We think that it was Mr. San- born who once said that the highest happiness of the New Englander con- sists in doing good and getting paid for it. We do not undertake to pass an estimate upon this saying, nor to consider how far the New Englander is in this respect a peculiar being; but if there is truth in the saying, the op- portunity of very high happiness now waits at the doors of Boston investors and philanthropists. * * * We confess that we do not share the common American feeling that our municipalities should not in any case take into their own hands the matter of providing proper homes for the people. The arguments against the general principle of such munici- pal action in America seem to us quite inconclusive. We are told that the conditions here are essentially differ- ent from those in English cities which is not the truth; and we are told that our municipal governments are too dishonest to be entrusted with such added functions and responsibil- itiesWhich we do not believe. We cannot afford, in any department of our public life, to be scared from doing anything that is in itself sensible and wise and best by the fear of the danger that our servants cannot be trusted to do their duty. To sink to that posi- tion is the most pusillanimous thing possible for a democracy; it is a posi- tion which we should refuse to take at any cost or any risk. The evils and corruptions in many of our munici- palities to-day are indeed sad enough; but they are to be resolutely faced every day, with everycorrupt rc~gime always kept on the defensive. It is a question whether we have nc~t gone much too far in taking responsibility and power from the legislative depart- ment of our city governments and whether the real cure for some of our most serious evils does not lie in the opposite course. With whatever reservations and exceptions it is to be said, we believe that the low-water mark of American municipal life lies several years behind the present. A genuine municipal spirit has been de- veloping in America during this whole decade. It may have received a tem- porary set-back during the last two years, like other good movements, while the attention and interest of the people have been so heavily mort- gaged by wars and rumors of wars; but this is only temporary, and the hour of its revival is at hand. A work, moreover, like that of the construc- tion and management of great masses of homes for the people is a public work of precisely, the character to de- mand such organization and enlist such forces as give the best guarantee of honesty and efficiency. What work in private hands was ever managed more honestly or efficiently than the work which has been done and is be- ing done under the direction of the Boston Transit Commission? Who doubts that this very commission would manage just as efficiently as it is managed to-day the street railway service of Boston? What reasonable doubt can there be that a Tenement House Commission made up of just such men would be as honest and effi- cient as the Transit Commission? There can be no reasonable doubt; and we confess that we should be glad to see Boston try the experiment. We should like to see the city appropriate and clear all areas which can properly EDITORS TABLE. 249 be called slum areas, all quarters occu- pied by houses which are not fit for men and women to live in and for children to grow up in, and cover them with tenements of the most ap- proved sort, to be furnished to tenants at the lowest rental consistent with good public financiering. If the ex- perience of Glasgow and Birmingham counts for anything, the enterprise would be a perfectly safe and a profit- able one; and it would do more than anything else that we can think of to elevate the whole character and standard of tenement house life, com- pelling the owners of all private tenements to just rents, to good ser- vice, and to every effort in their power to make their tenements wholesome, convenient and attractive. * * * Whether municipalities in their municipal capacity should undertake this work seems to us purely a ques- tion of expediency at a given time. If the tenement conditions in a city are bad, and if private parties do not undertake the building of good tene- merits in a way that promises to bring about better conditions, then the city government itself should take the mat- ter in hand. If there be a people who more than any other may be called, in the popular sense of the term, prac- tical, it is the English people; no one would ever accuse them of being theo- retical socialists. Yet, precisely be- cause they are practical people, be- cause the common sense of the situation prescribed it, their munici- palities have taken up the work of clearing away the slums and provid- ing decent homes for the people more extensively than any other munici- palities in the world. Professor F. Spencer Baldwin, the professor of political economy in Boston University, and a member of the Tenement House Committee of the Twentieth Century Club, has just written an admirable historical survey of the whole movement for tenement house reform in this country and in Europe; and this survey, first pub- lished as articles in the Boston Transcript, has been reprinted in pamphlet form by the Twentieth Century Club, under the title of The Housing Problem. We do not know of any other brief survey of the subject which is so good; and no sec- tion of it to our thinking offers so many valuable lessons as the section devoted to tenement rejorm in Great Britain. Much more might be said of the great work which has been done in London and its suburbs by private companies; but in laying the empha- sis upon distinctly municipal activ- ities, Professor Baldwin has laid it in the right place. The extent of these activities is something that few of us in America realize. As far back as i866, an Act of Par- liament was passed constituting the town council of Glasgow an improve- ment trust for the purchase and im- provement of property; and under this Act the council has renovated large slum areas. The first area dealt with consisted of ninety acres, and the cost was over seven million dollars. At first the council confined its work to ,the demolition of insanitary houses, leaving to private enterprises the task of reconstruction; but during the last dozen years the council has itself pushed the construction of tenement houses on a larger scale, also building numerous municipal lodging houses, all admirably managed, and an actual source of revenue to the city. Bir- mingham some years ago inaugurated a comprehensive improvement scheme involving the purchase of ninety acres of congested territory in the heart of the city, upon which there stood nearly 2,700 buildings. Half of these have been demolished, and the re- mainder put into sanitary condition. New streets were laid out, and new dwellings have been built, all at an expenditure of over eight million dol- lars; but the matter has been so well managed that it will in the end prove profitable, while the general benefit conferred upon the city is something 250 EDITORS TABLE. incalculable. The corporation of Liverpool has demolished over 5,000 old houses and erected 10,000 new ones. Edinburgh has expended nearly three million dollars in the pur- chase of insanitary property. The improvement trust has pursued the policy of demolishing the worst houses in order to make breathing spaces in the crowded quarters, these spaces being turned into play grounds for children, usefully and attractively furnished. In London itself the municipal movement for improvement of tene- ment house conditions began with the very formation of the London County Council, in 1889. A standing com- mittee on the housing of the working classes was formed; and its activities have been most vigorous and benefi- cent. In Bethnal Green, in East Lon- don, the council purchased fifteen acres of land, inhabited by 6,ooo peo- ple, living in 700 squalid cottages. These were destroyed, and the area was laid out in seven broad streets, radiating from a central garden, model five-story tenements being built for the population. The Shoreditch vestry has recently opened a block of model dwellings on the site of a slum that Sir Charles Dilke called the worst in London. The West Ham town coun- cil has just ~ntered upon the largest housing enterprise yet planned, in- volving the purchase of 100 acres of land and the erection of tenement houses, at a total cost of five million dollars. Alongside its work of pro- viding good tenement houses in Lon- don itself, the County Council has sought to relieve the congestion in the centre of the city by securing im- proved transport facilities to the suburbs. The committee takes the broad view that the best service it can render to the workingmen of London is to make it possible for them to live in the outskirts. Rapid, cheap, and convenient transit is therefore the watchword of the County Council. To this end it has made exhaustive statistical reports upon the existing supply of workingmens morning and evening suburban trains on the Lon- don railways; has communicated with the railway companies, urging more favorable terms for workingmen; and has shown great energy in promoting bills in Parliament regarding the in- sertion of clauses providing for work- ingmens trains in all bills that in any wise confer privileges upon railway companies. * * * The two lessons taught so well by England, the lesson of dealing with the housing problem by the munici- pality itself, and the lesson of making it cheap, easy and attractive for work- ingmen to get out of the city into the country for their homes, were both strongly emphasized in the recent conferences of the Twentieth Century Club,the first by Mr. Horace G. Wadlin, the chief of the Massachusetts Bureau of Statistics of Labor, whose Tenement House Census of Boston,~~ prepared in 1892, is such an invalu- able magazine of facts touching the homes, the health conditions and the occupation of the Boston poor; and the second by Mr. Henry D. Lloyd, who has been so careful a student of English social and industrial condi- tions. Dr. Edward M. Hartwell, the head of the Boston Department of Municipal Statistics, submitted impor- tant lessons from Germany, the prin- cipal lesson being that of scientific method. The German municipalities have not undertaken constructive work to the extent which is true of English municipalities; but their studies and statistics of their own con- ditions are exemplary; and the im- portant practical results of this clear and detailed knowledge were impres- sively pointed out by Dr. Hartwell. Our own statistics of disease and death are most inadequate; we lump these things in the crudest manner. If the people of our cities were as well informed as the inhabitants of Ger- man cities as to the exact statistics of disease and death in the several sec EDITORS TABLE. 251 tions of the city, they would be more alive than they are to the gravity of tenement house evils and to the danger of these evils to the whole city as well as to those immediately con- cerned. * * * Science, clear knowledge, is what is chiefly needed in this whole field. The chief trouble in Boston to-day and it is no truer of Boston than of other citiesis that few of her people, intelligent and influential people, have exact knowledge of the slums in her own borders. A year ago Jacob Riis came over from New York to speak before the Twentieth Century Club on the battle with the slum in that city. A leading Boston newspaper, in com- menting upon the lecture, felicitated its readers that the harrowing pictures brought before the audience by Mr. Riiss stereopticon were New York pictures and not Boston ones; yet a hundred Boston pictures, matching Mr. Riiss worst, could have been thrown that evening upon the same screen. An earnest Boston woman, knowing this, placed money in the hands of the Twentieth Century Club, to have such pictures made; and in connection with the recent confer- ences and exhibit they were used to illustrate addresses upon The Battle with the Slum in Boston by Mr. Haynes and Mr. Estabrook, the agents of the Club in this reform. One newspaper comment was that these pictures related mostly to past conditions which had been trans- formedthe pictures as matter of fact having all been taken during the last summer and autumn; and it would have been easy to double the number of similar pictures. So hard is it for comfortable folk to realize or credit the squalor and hardship in which the other half lives, within pistol shot, or often just around the corner! It is the duty of every citizen in every great city to understand this situation, and to help in its reform. We have no right to be complacent while such conditions exist; and we have no rea- son to be discouraged because the problem is complex and difficult. * * * To the faint-hearted and those of little faith, this volume is reproachfully inscribed :such is the dedication of Jacob Riiss A Ten Years War, the account of his battle with the slum in New York, which comes to us from the press of Houghton, Muffin and Company, just as these important conferences upon tenement house re- form are taking place in Boston. When we discussed in these pages a year ago the subject of better homes for the Boston poor, we concluded that discussion by a review of the noteworthy volume entitled The City Wilderness, prepared by the resi- dents and associates of the South End House in Boston, which came from the press at that very time. We should like to review similarly in the present connection this stirring book by Mr. Riis upon A Ten Years War. We may return to it at an- other time; but now we ask the men and women of Boston, or of any other city, who have enlisted in the battle with the slum, or who have sim- ply been roused to a consciousness that there ought to be a battle, to read this book. The faint-hearted and those of little faith should indeed feel its reproach, for the confidence and courage and buoyant zeal of this splendid warrior, after his ten years war, are magnificent; but the hard- hearted and complacent should feel its reproach more deeply, because the terrible conditions painted in its pages are those whose continued tol- eration in any city is a crime, to which every careless citizen is a party. Bos- ton is not New York; the extent and character of her problem are simple dompared with those of the problem in New York. But Boston has much in her borders which is a menace and a wrong; and she has no right to rest until the slum is absolutely extirpated from her midst. 252 OMNIBUS. Among the dozen pictures in Mr. Riiss book are two portraitsof Colonel Waring and Theodore Roose- velt, men who in this decade have rendered such conspicuous service in behalf of better municipal conditions in New York. Governor Roosevelt came from Albany to take part in the opening conference in connection with the recent Tenement House ex- hibit in New York; and in his speech he said: It seems to me that on the whole no movement is so vital to the well-being of our people as that into a part of which you ate looking now. If we succeed in up- building ihe material and, therefore, moral side of what is the foundation of the real life of the Greater New York, we shall have taken a longer stride than is possible in any oiher way toward a solution of the great civic problems with which we are confronted. Go and look through the Tharts downstairs, which show the centres of disease and poverty, and remember that it is there that the greatest number of votes are cast. We hear complaints of corrup- tion in the city government of New York; but how can we expect the stream to rise so very far when the source is polluted? We have got to strive for the elementary Love cometh to the front door in gentle manly guise, - And asketh for My Lady; but heareth in surprise Her calm voice answer coldly from some- where up above, Im not at home, I tell thee: Im not at home to Love. Love goeth away sighing and drooping in despair, But soon himself bethinketh that all for Love is fair; If he can but win entrance he hopeth to win more, And every ladys dwelling hath eke a lower door. And Love is skilled in guises, and doeth on the gear Of blue-coat City Watchman, the burly man of l)eer; physical benefit of the people first. No other reform is more desirable than this which you aim at, and none is more practi- cable. We must have intelligent legislation. We rely on men of means and broad charity to do much of the work of build- ing the best type of tenements; but we have a right to evoke the aid of the state to forbid the erection of buildings that are nurseries of crime and degradation. Every wretched tenement that a city allows to exist revenges itself on the city by being a hotbed of disease and pauperism. It tends steadily to lower the tone of our city life and of our social life. The present movement for better tenement houses is an effort to cut at the root of the diseases which eat at the body social and the body politic. If such exhibits and conferences as those recently held in New York and Boston tend to make this plain, if they compel far stricter and higher san- itary standards, if they promote more intelligent and exacting building laws, and, above all, if they prompt the con- structive work of providing decent and attractive homes for the people in place of the existing slums, they will indeed prove salutary and beneficent. And cometh to the rear door and tirleth at the pin, Faith, be there here a lassie will let a brave boy in? Oh, maids be there below stairs and mis- tresses above, Kind maids with smiling faces who scorn no guise of Love; And tho the lady falter the lass may beckon sweet; And warm the fires greeting, and warm the lips that greet. So Love disguised who entered to win My Ladys heart Doth linger by the ingle forgetting all his part; For comely is the lassie nor of his glance afraid; And Love forgetteth mistress, and Love he wooeth maid. Abbie Fart eli Brown. NOT AT HOME. The cool sea-green and gilt binding which covers The Fishermans Luck, by Henry Van Dyke, is an agreeable change from the crude coloring which has obtained so largely this sea- son. Dr. Van Dyke has a devoted client~le among those who love nature and humanity, be- cause notwithstanding his keen sporting in- stincts he has a lively and appreciative interest in both. He never proses, but is always in a poetical and charming vein. His are books that come to mind in ones musings in walks abroad, under the spell of beauty of form and color. Luckily this generation has had a few unhurried observers of Gods creation, and Dr. Van Dykes name is in the choice list. (Chas. Scribners Sons, New York. $2.00.) * * * In the present controversial state of the pub- lic mind, anything at all authoritative on the subject of Christian Science excites interest. J. M. Buckley, by appending and other super stitions to his title has perhaps deprived his book of a host of readers. (The Century Com- pany, New York. 50 cents.) * * * If young parents are bewildered about the first steps to be taken in the education of their chil- dren, they can find in The Kindergarten in a Nutshell, by Nora Archibald Smith, much sen- sible and helpful advice. (Doubleday & Mc- Clure, New York. 50 cents.) * * * \Vhoever had the pleasure of making the ac- ~uaintance of Mabel Osgood Wrights charm- ing Tommy-Anne two or three years ago, will gladly renew it now in Wabeno, the Magician. The child has dropped Tommy from her name, but she still wears her magic spectacles and is in closest communion with the Heart of Nature. But, dear Heart of Nature, the evergreen needles dont unroll or fall off or change color or do any of these thing~, so they cant be leaves. Where did the soft, brown Pine needles come from that you raked up last autumn, to make a carpet for your play wigwam? They must have fallen off the big old Pines, I suppose, faltered Anne; but I have never noticed them come down, and the trees didnt look a bit bare without them, anyway. The needles are as much leaves as those of an Oak. Look at this little Spruce that you call a Christmas tree, said Heart of Nature. You see that the needles on the end sprays that grew last year are set closely together. Look at the next joint of the branch that marks the previous years growth; they are not quite so thickly set. Go back one joint farther and you see the needles are scanty. One joint still farther and there are no needles; the main stem is bare, though little side twigs of newer growth still wear their green feathers. So, Anne, you see by this that the little leaf-needles may cling for three whole seasons, and as only a third part of them fall away at any one time, the trees seem truly ever-green. It will not be only the very~young- est children who receive enlightenment from this quotation, which it is difficult to refrain from con- tinuing through the few pages following, which treat of the coming of foliage, but that would lead to the talk about frogs and so on and on. The whole book is delightfully instructive. Il- lustrations by Joseph M. Gleeson. (The Mac- millan Company, New York. $i.~o.) * * * Before opening Mary L. Pendereds Michael Rolf, Englishman, one wonders if the prosaic name stands for a real but forgotten hero. A pleasant surprise comes in finding the sparkling story is about a noble man in a humble walk in life. A young English girl, thrown upon her own resources, goes to a country town as governess, in answer to an advertisement. Her employer, a young man who wishes his pretty sister to be well brought up, is a grocer, whose shop is in his house, and his shop assistants are members of the family. It takes time for the scion of aristocracy to fit into the daily habits of so in- congruous a household, and to become recon- ciled to the situation, but this all comes to pass through her perception of the true nobility of soul under rough exteriors. (Doubleday & Mc- Clure, New York. $5.25.) * * * As no actor or actress is satisfied until per- mitted to essay the r6les of Hamlet aiid Juliet, so, apparently is no writer contented until he shall have repeated, critically or reminiscently, the ever-recurring names of our most literary period. In accordance with this nrevailing am- bition Donald G. Mitchell now puts forth a vol- ume, entitled American Lands and Letters, the text and pictures of which have the air of haphazard conjunction. (Charles Scribners Sons, N. Y. $2.50.) * * * It is pleasant to notice the multiplying hand- books which are discussing in a most sensible way questions of health. A very good one comes to us from the pen of P. M. Hanney. Its half dozen straightforward chapters discuss food, ex- ercise, pure air, pure water and sleep, giving good advice in each field. (The Hazel Pure Food Company, Chicago. $s.~o.) 1 BOOK NOTES. Prof. Nicholas P. Gilman, whose works upon Profit-sharing and Socialism and the Amer- ican Spirit have earned the recognition of all sociological students for their careful bringing together of important facts, places us under new obligations by his book A Dividend to Labor. He describes this work as a study of employers welfare Institutions, and that indicates its char- acter. It is a presentation of what has been done in Germany, France, Holland, Belgium, Great Britain and America by great employers of labor in the way of making the lives of work- ingmen more comfortable and interesting. Thus in a chapter on American Liberality to Work- men he takes up, to mention New England ex- amples, such places as Whitinsville, Hopedale, North Easton and Dalton, Massachusetts, and Peacerlale, Rhode Island, and describes in full de- tail the model homes and lodgings, libraries, lec- ture halls, etc., provided by the owners of the in- dustries which largely support those places for the better life of their people. He returns, in the latter part of his book, to the subject of profit- sharing, adding much new matter of importance to what he has already given us. The new vol- time occupies a place not hitherto filled in our economic literature. (Houghton, Muffin & Co. $1.50.) * * * Captain George Clarke Musgrave went to Cuba as a correspondent for an English paper, suffered imprisonment, and narrowly escaped death. This has delayed the completion and publication of Under Three Flags in Cuba, and the work has been anticipated by a number of others, based, he declares, upon misconception, and tending to raise doubts of the justification of American in- tervention. He describes life in the Cuban, Spanish, and American camps with a vivid and picturesque pen, and with the accuracy of an eye- witness. He ventures to hope that a plain story of the sufferings and sacrifices of the Cubans for their freedom may be of interest, and that a knowl- edge of their struggles will create an apprecia- tion of their aspirations. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. $2.00.) * * * Purely speculative as works like Behind the Veil must be from the very nature of the case curiosity, not to call it by a higher name, will always lead to their study. An attempt to clothe in everyday language the spiritual truths (to which even Paul confessed himself inadequate) is a comfort to many timid souls. The author chooses to send the little volume forth unsigned. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. 2~ cents.) * * * There are a half dozen pretty white books that one takes up with pleasure, in their flowered covers, to find that the contents quite justify the outward charm. The titles and authors are Art and Morality, by Ferdinand Bruinti~re; Opportunities for Culture, by Jeannette M. Dougherty; The Trend of the Century, by Seth Low; Rational Education for Girls, by Elizabeth Hutchinson Murdock; Cheerfulness as a Life Power, and Character the Grandest Thing in the World, by Orson Swett Marden. (T. Y. Crowell & Co., Boston. 35 cents each.~ * * * A really notable biography is The Art Life of William Morris Hunt, by his friend and pupil Helen M. Knowlton. It is especially fortunate when one artist is set to write of another, for if as is said, Art is nature seen through a temper- ament, a quick sympathy between such a sub- ject and his biographer must be vitally essential, else were the point of view distorted to untruth. There is something inexpressibly sad in the life and work of genius. There seems to be no place for the exceptional man, all the round holes are filled by round men, and the many- sided man cannot fit in. Hence his lone- liness, since time began. Like all great men, Hunt met with discouragements and apparent defeat. He was not permitted to carry out his own ideas as to art education in his own city, but saw himself set aside, his work neglected and age creeping on. His tragic death seemed to cap the climax, but no! cruel fate pursued him even to the extinction of his ideal fresco in the Capitol at Albany. Even his memorial has never materialized. And yet, his fame now rests on a firm basis. Miss Knowltons book with illustrations from Hunts works is a val- uable contribution to our knowledge of a great artist. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. $2.00.) * * * We noticed in these pages two years ago Rev. Ezra Hoyt Byingtons thoughtful and painstak- ing work upon the Puritan in England and New England. We now have from Dr. Byington a companion volume entitled Th~e Puritan as a Colonist and a Reformer. A discussion of the character of the Plymouth, Massachusetts and Connecticut colonies forms the greater portion of the work, and is followed by chanters upon John Eliot, Jonathan Edwards, and Shakespeare and the Puritans. The last of these is a very in- teresting literary study which, while recognizing a strong religious element in Shakespeare, and pointing out the Puritan associations amid which Shakespeare grew up, shows that li~ did not enter into the Puritan spirit of his time and did not have deep sympathy with democracy or the common people. A contrast is drawn by Dr. Byington between Shakespeare and Milton, in which much the same position is taken as that which Emerson took in his essay upon Shakes- peare in Representative Men. (Little, Brown & Co. $2.00.) Food for Babies Must be nourishing and suitable, and by suit- able food is meant a food which a child will properly digest and assimilate. Gail Borden Eagle Brand Condensed Milk for forty years has been the leading infant food. Book entitled Babies sent free. 2 BOOK NOTES. The fifth handsome volumemaking half the setof Edward Everett Hales works is deypted to Philip Nolans Friends, that chapter in the Louisiana purchase, in which a Spanish officer, under his Kings commission, murdered Philip Nolan, bearing the same Kings passport for his lawful adventure. It is of particular and timely interest now. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. $1.50.) * * * A little revision of Miss Lilian Whitings journalistic style would not be amiss in her Study of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. It hardly seems necessary to name the publishers of Mrs. Brownings Letters three times in one page, or to describe an early portrait more than once for intelligent readers. She declares a thing to be unknown and unusual whatever that may mean. But Miss Whiting has enthu- siasm and a kindly, eager appreciation that is contagious. Her own well-known position as to Spiritism causes her to dwell sympathetically upon that held by Mrs. Browning. (The Mac- millan Company, New York. $1.25.) * * * But work of quite another kind is that by the same author in Kate Field, A Record. There is no haste or carelessness in this loving memo- rial to true friendship. It bears evidence of painstaking affection and sympathy on every page. Whatever may be thought of Kate Field in the multifarious occupations of her intensely active life, her recorder merits no word but praise; Miss Field had a wide range with more or less varying success, but it must be said, without any very brilliant results. She knew many distin- guished people, and the volume contains admi- rable letters from a number of them. The book cannot fail to excite a very general interest. It is enriched with several portraits, one by Elihu Vedder. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. $2.00.) * * * No one could touch the life of an alien people more intimately or more delicately than Lafcadio Hearn in his treatment of the Japanese. In the first place he is greatly enamoured of them, is a naturalized citizen of the country, and, further, has lectured for years in the Imperial University at Tokyo, and is well read in their literature, ancient and modern. This is to be well equipped for writing In Ghostly Japan, the frontispiece of which, illustrating the opening Fragment of the book, makes a presentation of deep significance. The chapter on Ululation contains pregnant sentences full of secrets of the inner life. Mr. Hearn has devoted some space to the concentrated wisdom of proverbs. Here are a few: Fish that escaped are never small, child that died was never bad. Only by rea- son of having died does one enter into life. The fallen blossom never returns to the - branch, the shattered mirror never again re- flects. It is said that a poetess was asked to make reference to a square, a triangle and a cir- cle in seventeen syllables. She immediately re sponded: Detaching one corner of the mos- quitonet, lo! behold the moon. The art of arranging flowers enters into the education of young girls, as does also that of ceremonial tea-making. Mr. Hearn describes a recreation known as incense-parties which might be made suggestive for house gatherings in this country. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. $2.00.) * * * Strength and Beauty, by J. R. Miller, is written with a desire to interpret the spirit- ual teachings of the Bible in the language of common life, that men and women in the paths of duty and in the stress of struggle and sorrow may more readily get the inspiration and help they need. (T. Y. Crowell & Co., Boston. 75 cents.) * * * We have heard very much of late upon the remarkable political and social progress of New Zealand. So far as the organization of just and equable institutions goes, one is almost tempted to say sometimes that the kingdom of God seems to have come in that fortunate isFand. These common institutions, which are a model for the rest of the world, did not spring up in obedience to any theoretical socialism; they were the re- sults of the thought of hard-headed Englishmen upon problems coming up one after the other in a new country where it was easy to establish things aright. Mr. Hugh H. Lusk, formerly a member of the New Zealand Parliament, has published a volume entitled Our Foes at Home, in which he discusses the burning po- litical and industrial problems of the United States in the light of what has been done in New Zealand. Mr. Lusk has spent several years in the United States, and therefore has earned a right to speak; and his frank and energetic man- ner will earn the gratitude of every American who takes his politics seriously and is working for better things. (Doubleday & McClure Com- pany, New York. $s.oo.) * * * What Creasy in his Decisive Battles did for the land, Professor Edward Kirk Rawson has done for the sea. Beginning with Salamis, in two handsome octavo volumes, he takes in chronological order the battles of Actium, Le- panto, the defeat of the Armada, the last fight of the Revenge, Dungeness, La Hogue; the fight of Bon Homme Richard and Se- rapis, the Nile, and of Trafalgar; the duel be- tween Foudroyant and Guillaume Tell; the Constitution and Guerriere; Lake Erie; the famous engagements between Monitor and Merrimac, and Kearsarge and Alabama; Mobile Bay, Lissa, the victory over the Huas- car, Manila Bay, and Santiago. Professor Rawson, in virtue of his connection with the Naval Department at Washington, has had ac- cess to unusual sources of information and has been able to adorn his tale with uncommon il- lustrations, maps, plans and cuts. Taken alto- gether the work is most interestino. (T. Y. Crowell & Co., Boston. $4.00.) 3 BOOK NOTES. John A. Hobson, the eminent English econ- omist, has given, in a volume of three hundred and fifty pages, a discriminating and valuable analysis of Ruskins writings on social reform. That the author of the Evolution of Modern Capitalism should find it worth while to devote himself so seriously to writings which were treated with derision thirty years ago, marks the growth of Ruskins influence and the extent to which his later writings command attention. While profoundly sympathetic with Ruskins spirit and main purpose, Mr. Hobson does not fail to point out the limitations of Ruskins thought in regard to womans place, industrial experiments, war and socialism. His analysis of Ruskins Unto this Last, in which political economy as opposed to mercantile economy~~ is so trenchantly discussed, demonstrates the es- sential truth of Ruskins position, despite its somewhat erratic and inadequate method of presentation. The author asserts that by in- sisting upon the reduction of all economic terms, such as value, cost, utility, etc., to terms of vi- tality, by insisting upon the organic integrity and unity of all human activities, and the organic nature of the co6peration of the social units, and finally by furnishing a social ideal of reasonable humanity, Mr. Ruskin has amply justified his claim as a pioneer in the theory of Social Eco- nomics. Mr. Hobson declares that Alike in possession of material facts . . . and in trained capacity of argument, he was quite competent to discuss economic questions with Senior, Fawcett and J. S. Mill. (John Ruskin, Social Reform- er, by John A. Hobson, published by Dana Estes & Co., Boston.) * * The fertility and versatility of Mr. John Fiske find striking illustration at this time, when vari- ous volumes of his History of the United States keep coming to ps, in the collection of essays just published under the title of A Century of Science. The first paper, which gives the title to the book, was an address delivered in Phila- delphia in 1896, in celebration of the centennial of the founding of the First Unitarian Church in that city, under the lead of Dr. Priestley. This is followed by an admirable popular ad- dress upon the scope and nurport of the doctrine of evolution. This in turn by a noteworthy tribute to the late Edward L. Youmans and his services in behalf of science in America. The fourth essay is upon The Part Played by In- fancy in the Evolution of Man, and is an elab- oration of Mr. Fiskes important thought upon this subject which has perhaps been his own most significant contribution to the doctrine of evolution. The remainder of the essays relate chiefly to historical and literary subjects, the papers upon Parkman and Freeman being per- haps the most valuable, and those upon Cam- bridge as Village and City, and Forty Years of Bacon-Shakespeare Folly being the most en- tertaining. The volume throughout is a good illustration of Mr. Fiskes clear and penetrating thought and charming style. (Houghton, Mif- fin & Co., Boston. $2.00.) The Peaslees and Others of Haverhill and Vicinity, by E. A. Kimball, is one of the mul- tiplying genealogical books which throw much light upon the men of our earlier New England history. The work is evidently carefully pre- pared, and it is illustrated by views of various old homesteads. (Press of Chase Bros., Haver- hill, Mass. $I.50.) * ~* * An unusual story is Diomed, Life, Travels and Observations of a Dog, by John Sargeant Wise, prettily illustrated by J. Linton Chapman. Diomed was taught pointing in his puppyhood, and he developed into a capital hunting dog. His trail led him from Florida over the moun- tains of North Carolina to Mexico and Minne- sota. The game was of all sorts, snipe, grouse, crane, even rabbits. Indeed among Diomeds most laughable experiences were his scurryings over the western prairies after jack rabbits. He could never learn to dread punishment so much as to conquer the irresistible desire to give chase after that forbidden quarry. Sportsmen, de- veloped and embryonic, are sure to take kindly to Diomed. (The Macmillan Company, New York. $2.oo.) * * * A General Survey of American Literature, by Mary Fisher, is not in its plan strikingly un- like many brief handbooks upon American lit- erature, but it is certainly much more thorough, intelligent and vital than most of them. The book shows real familiarity with our literature, and real love for the writers. Many of the chap- ters, like that on Channing (who does not gen- erally come in for treatment in such handbooks), are of distinct value. Channing and Irving are the earliest authors who receive special mention, and the survey comes down to Howells and James and the men of our own time. The book, which is an outgrowth of the authors own work in the classroom, is to be commended for its warm and graphic character, and its freedom from perfunctoriness. (A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago. $1.50.) * * * Anything that Captain Alfred T. Mahan writes is sure of ~xide reading. It is not too much to say that this American is to-day the most im- portant writer in the world upon naval subjects. When, therefore, he gives us in a volume the various articles upon Lessons of the War with Spain, which he has recently contributed to McClures Magazine, his book is sure of atte tion from people quite outside the professional circle. These technical discussions, constituting the greater portion of the work, are followed by es- says upon The Peace Conference and the Moral Aspect of War, and The Relations of the United St~tes to Their New Dependencies; but these papers are of distinctly less interest and less value than those in the field in which Cap- tain Mahan is an authority. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston. $2.oo.) 4 \VILLL M ELLERY CIIANNING. See art ~le on Unil nazi/s z.

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The New England magazine. / New Series, Volume 22, Issue 3 New England magazine and Bay State monthly New England magazine and Bay State monthly Era magazine New England Magazine Co. Boston May 1900 1022 003
The New England magazine. / New Series, Volume 22, Issue 3 255-382

THE NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE. VOL. XXII. No. 3. ONCE it was not considered pos- sible to maintain a hospital ex- cept in a large city. Now it is seen that any community of ten thou- sand people can have its own hospital. The past twenty years have witnessed the opening of a large number of these institutions, especially in New Eng- land. Sometimes one appears to have been started rather in advance of the demand for it, as was the case at Portsmouth, N. H. An old sea cap- tain gave his house and its quaint furniture to the vestry of St. Johns~ parish to be used as a hospital. The rector and the congregation, with the help of friends outside, fitted up the house, adopted a constitution, en- gaged a matron and appointed com- mittees. Then they waited for pa- tients; they waited,but strange to say, for quite a time there seemed to be no one in all the place who needed hospital treatment. Nobody was knocked over by a furious bicycle rider; no homeless tramp came along with a rheumatic limp; no one needed any surgical operation; all the appendicitis cases seemed to disap- pear; they could not find even a sick child to occupy one of the nice white beds. The good people began to ask themselves whether a hospital were really needed there and whether they did right in accepting the old sea cap- tains gift. But after waiting for some months, the long expected first patient ap- peared. One night a somewhat be- fuddled brother, who had been visit- ing various bar-rooms, came into collision with a train on the railroad. He does not know how he did it. Either he or the train was out of place,and the result was a broken leg. The railroad employees picked him up, a crowd gathered, and a voice called out, Take him to the hos- pital ! Sure enough, they had a hos- pital all ready for patients. A stretcher was extemporized, and tQ- wards midnight a procession ap-- proached the hospital. The matron was aroused, a doctor was sent for, the sobered man with the broken leg was cared for and put to bed. It ~was thus they opened their hospital; and 255 NEW SERIES. MAY, 1900. DY ULO~JGE W. 231-IINN. 256 THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. since then they have had all the pa- tients they wanted. Occasionally when the rector meets patient No. i the latter says to him with consider- able exultation, Im the man who opened your hospital. There is another neighborhood where the generosity of people went far in advance of local needs. They got their hospital ready, but have found thus far very small demand for its accommodations. The probability is that when they overcome the prejudices of uneducated people against hospital treatment, they will have all they can do to care for those who want to come in. In many places this battle with prejudice has to be waged; then too some otherwise well educated people are not aware of the progress of modern hospital work, and consequently need instruction be- fore they can take hold of any move- ment looking to the establishment of a hospital in their neighborhood. Es- pecially is information needed by them and by others as to the plans of small hospitals. The dominant idea as to hospitals, until within the last thirty years, was that large and costly buildings were needed, and that there must be a staff of resident physicians. It was deemed impossible to have a hospital in a small place, unless perchance some wealthy person provided a good round sum of money to erect the buildings and to endow the work. The first de- parture was the Cottage Hospital sys- tem in England, which speedily became quite popular there, and was imitated to some extent in this coun- try. This new system, under the general name of the Cottage Hos- pital, varied from fitting up a small building accommodating five or ten to larger structures with as many as twenty-five beds. Some of these ex- periments were crude, but they led the way to the adoption of the Small Hospital system, xvhich is now suc- cessfully worked in a number of places in this country. One of the pioneers in this move- ment for small hospitals was the New- ton hospital in the city of Newton, Massachusetts, adjoining Boston. Nearly twenty years ago efforts began there to establish a cottage hospital. There were many obstacles to be overcome. One was the objection of the rich. They said they did not need it, because they could be taken care of in sickness in their own homes. The poor objected to it, because most of them regarded a hospital as a place Kendall, Taylor & Stevens, Architects THE NEWTON HOSPITAL. THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. 257 131 KA111N1~ KUUYI uN 1r112. NEWTON HOSPITAL. where people were sent to die. The supposed expense was also a great obstacle, for the notion of large buildings with a staff of resident doctors was the only one that many could entertain. It was regarded generally as a hopeless ex- periment when those inter- ested in the movement in Newton de- clared their purpose to put up small and inexpen 5 iv e buildings, to place the insti- tution in charge of a matron with- out a resident physician, and to secure the codperation of the two leading schools of physi- cians. A process of education went on in the community; objections were overcome; money was raised; and at length a start was made in build- ing. It was a very humble begin- ning, but the most sanguine friends of the hospital did not then dream that there would be the need of ex- pending more than a few thousand dollars each year, or that more than a hundred patients in the course of any year would be treated. In 1899 the cost of maintenance was over $25,000, and the number of cases treated reached seven hun- dred. The first buildings erected soon proved too small for the needs, and additions had to be made irom time to time, so that to-day the property of the corporation in- cludes nine acres of land, two wards for men and two wards for women, a ward for private patients, a chil- dren s ward, a maternity ward, a nurses home, three contagious wards, a morgue, a laundry and a boiler house. The institution provides accommodation for over one hun- dred and fifty patients, and requires a A CORNER OF THE CHILIJEEIN ~ KUUM, NEWTON HOSPITAL. 258 THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. force of some thirty helpers, nurses and other employees. The annual support of the hospital is derived from the payments of paying patients, the earnings of pupil nurses outside, a Hospital Sunday offering in the Newton churches, an appropriation from the city for the care of the sick poor, the income of some invested funds and individual gifts, in all amounting in 1899 to about $25,000. The birds-eye view accompanying this article shows the buildings, ex- cept the contagious wards. The older buildings are of wood, but the newer ones are of brick, with slate roofs. All are connected by means of corridors. The physicians of the city give their services and constitute a staff,. taking duty in turn, according to a pre-ar-- ranged plan. They also, with the as- sistance of the matron, conduct a training school for nurses, giving pupils a full course of three years teaching and training. The plant and equipment of the Newton hos- pital and the intelligent, enthusiastic codperation of physicians and citi- zens, put this institution into the front rank of small hospitals. It is quite probable that if the institution were starting now the trustees would plan some of their buildings differ- ently. In other respects they have made only a few blunders. They have simply followed along the line of develop- ment as it was indicated by the thoughtful consid- eration of needs as those needs sprang up. It is much easier to start and to maintain a small hospital now than it was when this began, for experience shows pretty clearly what the ordinary needs are and how they can be met. It will be interesting to see how other communi- ties have provided them- selves with hospitals, and what kind of hospitals they have. Out of the many that might be cited, it may be most helpful to take some that will serve as types. There are four types of small hospitals: (i) where there has been some previous experience in hospital management, and where there is a fund in hand to construct CHILDREN AT PLAY, NEWTON HOSPITAL. A MEMORIAL XVINDOW IN THE CHILDREN 5 ROOM, NEWTON HOSPITAL. THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. 259 and equip fairly good buildings; (2) where individual generosity gives the complete plant outright; (~) where the hospital begins in a small way in an old building; (~) where the insti- tution feels its way along slowly, building by degrees, enlarging its work as it sees the way open, and growing from a feeble start to consid- erable size and strength. One of the most important of the first kind is the Springfield hos- pital. It had some advantages to begin with, for it started out with money in hand and it absorbed a pre- viously existing hospital. The pres- ent organization was incorporated in December, 1883. Three years later it received a bequest of $25,000, and later on other gifts. The present buildings were built and dedicated in 1889. The value of the plant now is over $135,000, with an endowment fund besides of $107,000. During 1897, four hundred and forty-six pa- tients were treated, and the receipts from those who were able to pay came to $I5,ooo. One hundred and nineteen were paid for out of an ap- propriation made by the city for the care of the poor. The whole expense for the year was $26,500, or an aver- age of about $6o per patient. The buildings are of graceful proportions and are surrounded by a plot of over thirty acres. Occasionally we have instances of most open generosity amounting to lavishness. Something is done in the very best manner possible without any regard to the cost. The deter- mination is to have it just as com- plete as it can possibly be. The Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital at Hanover, New Hampshire, is an il- lustration. It is acknowledged to be the finest of its class in existence. In their entire completeness the build- ings are a memorial gift. After the wise suggestions of medical and sur- gical experts, and under the skilled hands of accomplished architects, the material fabric grew. The best thought was also devoted to plans of administration. Gifted men gave in- telligent and devoted attention to its affairs, and brought wide experience and sincere devotion to the develop- ment of a model hospital. However complete it is as a building, it is none the less complete in its appointments and organization and in the work done in its medical, surgical and nursing departments. What has been done at Hanover can be done elsewhere. There are other persons of means and other per- sons of ability and earnestness. If THE SPRINGFIELD HOSPITAL. 260 THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. the wealth can be consecrated to this use, and the zeal and intelligence of medical men and leading citizens en- listed, other institutions like this me- morial hospital will come into being to perpetuate the memory of the dead and to bring relief and comfort to those who in this transitory life know something of its ills. Another of these hospitals built through individual generosity and with lavish expenditure is the one at Concord, New Hampshire, the Mar- garet Pillsbury hospital. At the time of its dedication, in 1891, Mr. George A. Pillsbury, the donor, said that he wanted to do something to be of lasting benefit to the people of Concord and serve as his token of love and esteem for the wife who for more than fifty years had been his true and faithful companion. He also said that he had resolved to se- cure this hospital now rather than provide for it by will. So this beau- tiful building, in addition to being a constant lesson of kindliness to the suffering, is a reminder of the wisdom of being ones own administrator, and also of the tender and lasting affec- tion between husband and wife which enabled an old man to say: She has shared my trials and anxieties as well as my pleasures, for fifty years, and this is my token of love and esteem for her. The building is of brick, with gran- ite basement. It is one hundred and twenty-five feet long and seventy-five feet wide. There are two stories and a basement. In the latter are the heating apparatus and storage rooms. On the first floor are waiting rooms dispensary, offices, private rooms and two general wards. On the second floor are rooms for matron and nurses, and an isolated ward. The servants occupy the attic. The hospital corporation began its existence in 1884, and struggled * We are indebted to the architects, Messrs. Kendall, Taylor and Stevens, for the several views of the Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital. THE MARY ni~cncoc~ MEMORIAL HO5PITAL.* THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. 261 along in a very incon- venient bnilding nntil the reception of this fine gift. There is a small endow- ment, bnt the larger part of the snpport is derived from paying patients and froni contribntions. Among the generons be- qnests provided in the will of Addison Gilbert for the benefit of his native city of Gloucester, Massachnsetts, was one of $ioo,ooo for es- tablishing a free hospital, with gronnds properly em- bellished. It was to pro- vide for the gratnitons treatment of those who were nnable to pay, and to accept snch compensation as others were able to give. A corporation was formed nnder the laws of the state, and trnstees were elected. A plot of thirteen acres of gronnd was secnred, and on it, after consnltation with physicians, a fine brick building was built. This building contains accommo- dation for present needs, but event- nally mnst be enlarged by the addition of other wards. This Addi- son Gilbert hospital at Gloncester is an illustration of how a bequest can be wisely administered. The trustees did not spend it all in buildings, but put aside about half of it as a perma- nent investment, from which some in- come was to be derived. They lo- cated the institution in a good place, with plenty of ground around it, and called in the advice of good physi- cians and good architects. There are many who are able to establish hospitals. either by gifts while living or by bequests. Some can readily provide $ioo,ooo or more; but in case so large a sum is not avail- able, it may be said that for many a community $25,000 spent in buildings and their equipment and $50,000 invested for in- come will make a good hospital possible. The balance of income will co.me from paying patients and the gifts of friends. Another of these small hospitals is St. Lukes, ENTRANCE TO THE MARY HITCHCOCK HOSPITAL. THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. ~0NSERVAT~11~ MARY 111~iCiiC0CK UOSP11AI-~. at New Bedford. During the year 1898 it treated five hundred and sixty-eight patients and ex- pended over $17,000. Part of the money for the expenses came from the dnes of patients, voluntary con- tribntions and annual subscriptions, but abont one-third of it was the in- come derived fro.m the permanent fnnd, which is now over $iOo,000. The buildings are constructed after the plan which is growing more into favor, that is, a central administration building, with wards to the right and left connected by means of corridors. The illustration given is of special value as show- ing the en- largement and a d ditions. Nearly every hospital has to provide for more accom- modation as time goes on, and it is well to stndy how to enlarge when the first building is constrncted. The story of the Morton hospital at Taunton, Mas sachusetts, brings to view some chapters which, with a change of names and dates, would describe the hospital movement in many another place. For many years the need of a hospital in that city had been felt. The Board of Health in 1874 said: Prudence would dictate that a city increasing in population and connecting so freely with other mann- factnring places should be provided with a con- venient and properly con- strncted hospital. Other officials from time to time re- ported in favor of a hospital: At one time a committee reported that the city should rent a building, fit it up and carry on the work; but nothing was done. Finally some physicians gave the topic con- sideration, and one of them went so far as to start subscription papers, which brought in a good sum. An earnest clergyman joined in the movement and did good service by his persuasive eloquence and whole- hearted zeal. In i888 those inter- ested concluded to organize a hos- pital corporation. When they met THE MARGARRI ~iLL5BURT iiOSPIIAL. THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. 263 they were greeted by the welcome news that Mrs. Susan T. Kimball of Boston had offered to transfer to the corpOratiQn the homestead estate of the late Marcus Morton, her father. This fine old building was erected in 1828. It had to be repaired and al- tered to adapt it to its new use; but this work was done, and accommoda- tion was provided for ten pa- tients, the nurses and helpers. When the hospital became an established fact, public interest in it grew, and many gifts of ma- terial and money were offered. Congregations and societies were eager to assist in furnishing the rooms, and many persons pledged annual contributions. The largest gift after that of the real estate was $i,ooo towards an endowment fund. The institu- tion opened January 8, i888, and during its first year treated twenty persons. Like other hos- pitals, it found its work growing and peoples interest in it grow- ing. Before many years there will be the demand for larger ac- commodations, and the demand will be cheerfully met. The establishment of the Mor- ton hospital at Taunton should encourage other commu- nities where hospitals are needed, but where, from lack of any widespread in- terest, it is dif- ficult to secure means for a c o m p 1 e t ely new plant and equipment. If it is possible to select a site and build new buildings, it should be done. Where the institution, if it is to be begun at all, must start in a small way, an old dwelling-house with plenty of ground around it may be adapted to the present needs. Fine old mansions like the Morton mansion are rare,; but there are good buildings in some suburbs which will do fairly well, and there ought to be people ready to A CORNER OF THE CHILDRENS ROOM. THE ADDISON GILBERT HOSPITAL. 264 THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. give these old estates for the relief of the suffering. Whether it is ever best to buy an old house to be refit- ted for a hospital isverydoubtful,espe- cially as the expense of erecting entirely new buildings of brick, with all the up- to-date hospital appliances, is so small. Accompanying this article is a drawing by Mr. S. D. Hayden, an architect of Newtonville, Massachu- setts, after suggestions from physicians and others, for a hospital for twenty- five patients, with administration build- ing, operating room, quarters for and four beds in rooms. A siThilar corridor on the left connects the main building with the mens ward, which also has three open beds and four beds in rooms. The ordinary ca- pacity of this hospital for patients is therefore seven men, seven women, four maternity cases and two specials. In an emergency there may be one in the recovery room and two in each alcove in the wards, making twenty- five in all. For many neighborhoods this is as large a hospital as will ever be needed, and about all that can be sup- ported. These buildings are so constructed that parts can be shut off when not needed. Thus there may be seasons when there are only two or three men or two or three wom- en under treat- ment. The rooms in the second story may be used at such times, and the wards closed until THE OPERATING ROOM, ADDISON GILBERT HOSPITAL. needed. There is one special merit which these plans have, and that is the pro- vision they make for rooms, instead of huddling all sorts of sick and in- jured people together in a ward. The wonder is that so many patients ever get well when put into a ward with others; but, strange as it may seem, some kinds of sick people get lonely when they are in separate rooms and prefer the discomforts of the ward to the quiet and seclusion of the sepa- rate room. They really ask the privi- lege of being ill in the company of others. For many other people it is well-nigh intolerable even to think of occupying a bed in a ward. It is not matron and nurses, and private rooms for patients. The estimrted cost, ac- cording to the prevailing prices in New England, is from $20,000 tO $25,000, finished and furnished. The plan contemplates a central building, in which on the first floor are a recep- tion room, office, dining room and kitchen, operating and recovery rooms; on the second floor are the maternity rooms and rooms for ma- tron and nurses; in the attic are ser- vants quarters; the laundry and hot water heating apparatus are in the basement. A sun corridor to the right connects with the womens ward. This ward has three open beds THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. 265 good for any one, and the system, however defended upon the ground of economy of administration and for the reason above given, will probably be given up in time. Mr. Haydens plans provide for roo.ms in each ward, which are so ar- ranged that it is just as easy for the nurse to attend to patients in them as to attend to those on the open beds in the wards. Some open beds are retained, ward fashion. They are not, however, in such numbers as to be so objectionable as in the old ward plan. Here, then, is a hospital that will suit the reqiure- ments of many neigh- borhoods for the present. If more room is needed af- ter a While, it is easily pro- vided by ex- tending an existing ward or building another with its connecting corridor. An 1 n 5 t itution beginning thus with a plant of $20,000, not counting the ground, can go on adding, say $5,000 at a time, until it increases its accommo- dation to a hundred beds. Provision for contagious diseases must be separate from the regular hospital. Perhaps the most suitable buildings, in an ordinary small com- munity, are simple wooden barracks or huts in some secluded part of the grounds. There .may not be a case of smallpox for years; but there will probably be a few cases of diphtheria and scarlet fever each year. The ten- THE MURrOIN 1-1u~r11AL. THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. dency in many places now is towards the removal of all contagiOnS cases to hospitals for treatment; so that every hospital shonld provide for their re- ception. While some, snch as that at Newton, have fine accommodations, plastered and steam-heated rooms, with baths and all the needed ap- pliances, there may be contagiotis hnts of a much simpler and cheaper sort that will answer their purposes quite well. I venture a few practical sugges- tions as to making a start in this mat- ter of a small hospital. First. Some one interested should call a meeting for conference. The persons to be invited are the physi- cians, the ministers and some repre- sentative members of the different churches and benevolent societies. At this meeting there should be sev- eral addresses expiainm~ the pur- poses of local hospitals and giving an THE ~AiviBRIDGE HOSPITAL. THE FOUNDING OF SMALL HOSPITALS. 267 account of a few already established. The testimony of the local physicians and clergymen should be asked as to the need of the proposed hospital. A committee should be appointed to prepare the outline of a constitntion of a hospital corporation, to be con- sidered at an adjourned meeting. It is easy to prepare such an outline from the reports annually published by the different hospitals. When a constitution is adopted, submit a du- plicate of it with an application for incorporation to the proper officer of the state. When this is granted, the time has come to call the first regular meeting of the corporators, to elect others to membership, to choose of- ficers, and to take steps for securing the necessary funds. Second. The proposed institution must have buildings and an income for meeting the current expenses. How can the buildings be secured? There is some one in nearly every neighborhood where a hospital is needed who can well afford to give from $15,000 to $25,000 to erect and equip the necessary buildings. Happy owner of means to be able to do this for the good of others! Happy any one who is able to establish a hos- pital as a memorial of some dear one called away! Happy one who can make it a thank offering for his own recovery from illness, or for the pres- ervation of wife or child in a time of danger! If people of means could only realize what good would follow a gift of this moderate amount, there would be a friendly struggle as to which offer out of several in the same neighborhood should be accepted. If the buildings are provided by some one, there is not much trouble in securing funds for the current ex- penses. Canvass the city for annual subscriptions of different sums; ar- range for a Hospital Sunday collec- tion in all the churches; petition the city authorities for a grant of m6ney for caring for the city poor; Prge per- sons to establish free beds; and ask for funds towards an endowment. Half the amount needed for current expenses will probably come from paying patients, the other half can be secPred in the ways suggested. The nurses training school, xvhich will THE PROPO5ED FITCHBURG HOSPITAL. By courtesy of the architects, Messrs. Kendall, Taylor and 5tevens. 268 THE COST OF A SONG. probably be established in connec- tion with the new hospital, will help bring in an income. Any place of ten thonsand people can snpport its own hospital; and every place of that size needs one and should not delay establishing it. If there is no one who is able or willing to give the buildings, the hos- pital corporation shonld proceed to collect a building fund. If means are scarce, the central building alone of the group can be erected; then, as money comes in, one ward, and, later on, the other. If the land is oxvned the small sum of $8,ooo might be suf- ficient to start in this way. The bal- ance will come when the people un- derstand what a blessing a hospital may be for the relief of suffering and for uniting all kinds of people in benevolent work. By fames Riley. OVER and over and over, the songs of our life are sung, The same to-day as in ages gray when first the lute was strung. The same to-day as in ages gray, the singers highest art Is to sing of man and the soul of man from the depths of the human heart. To sing the song that lingers in his heart from that far day, When men were brave and women fair and life was in its May, Is the singers paint of gladness when he gives his soul to man, In a song that lives because sweet Pain has changed his earlier plan. The husk, the harvest and the bin and all Lifes spreading plain To the singer must be singing if he mans soul would gain. Man in his soul unsatisfied strives for what cannot be He grasps at a star, and holds in his hand a drop from the sounding sea. Over and over and over, since the towers of Time were old, Over and over and over, since the cloud gave the sun its gold, Over and over and over, since the lines of our lives began, Has man gone out from the marching host to sing of the soul of man. The singer who sang of the pyramids prime has gone the ways of men; Put the sun and moon and human heart are just the same as then. The heart of man is a restless sea of varied star and clime, And only when its depths are stirred comes Song on the shores of Time. Over and over and over, since Wrong had realm and state, Over and over and over, since the Shades on the Living wait, Over and over and over, singing of sun in the rain, The chosen of God are bringing the voice of song from pain. THE COST OF A SONG. THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY. By Ellen Brainerd Peck. HERE are men whose success in life is achieved by some one deed or by a brilliant series of deeds; and there are men whose success is attained by the constant pur- suit of an object to the accomplish- ment of which the thought, the en- thusiasm and the work of a lifetime are devoted. The growth of this lat- ter class, in the public mind, is so gradual that the value of their efforts is taken for granted, and without much demonstration of appreciation their work passes into the panorama of deeds which make up civilization. Birdsey Grant Northrop, the origi- nator of Arbor Day, and the founder of the organized movement for Vil- lage Improvement Societies, belonged to the class of constant workers, and what he accomplished is but little known to the masses of our people. He was fully appreciated only by those educators and philanthropists with whom he came into intimate working contact. It has been said that genius is an ability for hard work. Dr. Northrop possessed this ability. In his work he made no endeavor to impress his own personality upon the attention of the public; the thought of self xvas lost in his zeal for the move- ments in which he was engaged. Birdsey Northrop was born in Kent, Connecticut, in the year 1817. Like .many another New England boy he lived on a farm, where he helped his father in the homely round of duties. He attended the village school and enjoyed the simple pleas- tires of old-time country life, while he drank in, with the invigorating Puri- tan atmosphere, the stimulus which animated him through life for good works, and endowed him with a stout heart against discouragement ,anda strong sense of duty toward his coun- try and mankind. When he was fourteen years old he conceived the idea of going to Yale College, where his grandfather, Amos Northrop, was graduated in 1762; and so the follow- ing quaint and formal boyish letter was written by young Northrop to Jeremiah Day, then president of Yale: Respected Sir:Situated in the midst of rural scenes, I have but few means to se- cure knowledge concerning our best high schools. Therefore I now write you, sensi- ble of the great opportunities you enjoy of knowledge on this subject, and ask that you would write me what school or schools are the best and most celebrated, particti; larly the New Haven school and the Fair- field school, Herkimer county, New York. I xvish to attend a good school in a pre- paratory course for college (Yale). In doing the above you will oblige your hum- ble servant, BIRD~zv NORTHROP. Many years afterwards, President Day returned this letter to Dr. Nor- throp, having for some reason pre- served it. The result of the letter was that President Day advised the boy to attend school at Ellington, and there prepare for college. His father was strongly opposed to letting the boy go away to school or college, as he feared that he might be led astray; ~ut the mother sympathized with her son in his aspirations, and through her influence, and that of the village clergyman, the lads hopes were real- ized, and when he was seventeen years old he was allowed to go to the school at Ellington. After he finished his course at this school, Northrop went through Yale College, and then he completed the course at the Yale Theological Sem- inary, where in his senior year he re- ceived the prize for the best theolog- ical essay. Ill health somewhat inter- fered with his college course, and he was obliged to give up study for a 269 270 THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY. year; but this interval he employed in teaching a small school at Eliza- bethtown, New Jersey. The follow- ing extracts from a letter written by him from Elizabethtown to his father show to what rural simplicity the young teacher was used in Kent: The people generally being in or neai~ a city, live in more fashionable style thaii in Kent. In almost every house two fires are kept, and the family never sit in the kitchen. Every farmer owns a good car- riage mounted on steel springs. I dont remember that I have seen a single house, great or small, in this vicinity, excepting only brick buildings, that was not painted. They are mostly painted white, some few red, and surrounded by a neat, plain picket fence, usually painted white. A railroad also passes through Newark, where I went the other day. The cars run sometimes at the wonderful velocity of thirty miles by the hour,and they are frightful things for horses, I assure you. Do you think, Henry [his brother], you would like to be riding on Sharon when one of these automatons should come roar- ing and thundering by you like a whirl- wind? The noise they make can be heard to the distance of three or four miles. This letter intimates in a rudi- mentary way the interest in the beauty of the home which influenced Dr. Northrops career, and anticipates the sentiment to which later in life he gave utterance :that it had long been his desire to help in bettering the homes and home life of the Amer- ican people, for the chief privilege and duty of life is the creation of tasteful, happy Christian homes; when such is ones ideal and his home becomes his pride, life has higher significance, value and sacredness. Dr. Northrop was graduated from the theological school in 1845; and in 1846 he was married to Miss Harriet Chichester. He began, in 1847, his work as pastor of the Congrega- tional church at Saxonville, Massa- chusetts; and here he remained for ten years, years that were filled not only with ministerial labors, but with educational workfor Dr. Northrop interested himself in the welfare of the town and succeeded in having a high school established there. By his efforts in behalf of educational affairs, while in Saxonville, he attracted to himself the attention of Hon. George S. Boutwell, and in i8~6, at Mr. Boutwells suggestion, he was sent to Maine to lecture. In 1857 Dr. Nor- throp resigned the pastorate of the Saxonville church, and was appointed agent of the Massachusetts State Board of Education; and he continued in this position for ten years. He filled this post most ably and, co- operating with the efficient educa- tional board of that period, he was one of the chief factors that operated to place the Massachusetts schools on their high grade of excellence. The following particularly happy notice of his work appeared in the Springfield Republican when Dr. Northrop with- drew from the service of the Massa- chusetts Board of Education to undertake the secretaryship of the Connecticut board: Mr. B. G. Nor- throp, who has just left the agency of our board of education, for the secre- taryship of that of the state of Con- necticut, has been doing a work in that agency, very little observed, but of surpassing interest and ultimate usefulness in the Commonwealth. Thoroughly imbued with the spirit which has animated that board, he has been for many years one of the chief, if not the most efficient instru- mentality, in infusing life-blood into our common school education. This ten years of work in Massa- chusetts Dr. Northrop followed up by sixteen years of educational labors in Connecticut, and he was one of the principal forces in the movement whidh resulted in the inauguration of the free school system and compul- sory education in Connecticut. Even in these busy years he found time to devote to the subjects of tree planting and village improvement. As early as 1870 he offered to lecture on these subjects free of charge in any town in Connecticut, although at that time the idea was pronounced chimerical, sentimental and unre- lated to schools. THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY. 271 In the year 1872 Japan invited Dr. Northrop to come there and formu- late a system of education; but he did not accept this flattering proposition, as he felt that his services were needed in his own land. Although he did not go to Japan, he labored in her behalf and received under his guardianship some Japanese girls brought by the great embassy to this country to be educated. There were three who completed a college course here and who returned to Japan to work for the advancement of Japanese women. His interest in these young women drew Dr. Northrop into close rela- tionship with the Japanese govern- ment. One of these women students, on her return to her country, was married to the minister of war, Count Qyama, and in her high official posi- tion has been able to do much toward the elevation of her sex in Japan. In many ways Dr. Northrop manifested an interest in Japan, and he received many letters of acknowledgment for his courtesies. Tanaka, the minister of public education in Tokio, wrote, to express my warmest thanks for your kind attention and careful infor- mation to my inquiries during my sojourn in your country in the last year, as a commissioner of public ed- ucation from his Majesty, the Em- peror of Japan. Dr. Northrops greatest work for Japan was the effort which he put forth. to induce the government of the United States to return to the Japanese government the Shimonoseki indemnity fund; and by the success of. this endeavor he won for himself a lasting place in the regard of the Japanese nation. The United States had received this in- demnity, but the government had never spent the money, as it was thought that the indemnity was more than commensurate for the offence given to our nation by the Japanese. Dr. Northrop devoted his energies to having these accumulated moneys sent back to Japan. Already, our government had passed a bill to re- lease the Japanese from paying the remaining inddmnity; but by far the greater portion had at the time already been received by the United States. With all the energy and zeal of which he was capable, Dr. Northrop originated and circulated a petition that the United States gov- ernment should return this indemnity fund in full. The petition was signed by the faculties of nearly all the col- leges in this country, and by many prominent men; it was one of the longest petitions ever prese~ited to Congress, being forty feet long. The petition was presented by Senator Hawley of Connecticut, and the passage of the bill was effected. The Japanese governments recognition of Dr. Northrops instrumentality in this affair is expressed in the following letter written from the Japanese Le- gation, London, April 5, 1883: My dear Mr. Northrop:. . . I am sure that Japan will long remember your many noble acts of assistance in the cause of her modern progress. The final passage of the Shimonoseki indemnity bill, which ~as been effected mainly through your power- ful and untiring effort, is one of the most generous conducts a nation ever displayed toward another. By this great example, all my countrymen, inclusive even of those in the remotest corner of Japan, will be en- abled to appreciate the widely and strongly established sentiments of the people of the United States for justice and equality. . Very sincerely yours, NIORI. Among the few who realized the importance of this Japanese friendli- ness toward our country, and who sympathized with Dr. Northrop when he first began to interest himself in Japan, was James A. Garfield, then in Congress. Among the signers of the indemnity fund petition was Henry Ward Beecher, who on being asked to sign wrote the following character- istic reply: It is almost a joke to ask me to sign. Yes, you can sign twice for me if it will do any good. In 1895, when Dr. Northrop was nearly eighty years old, he made a visit to Japan and to the Hawaiian Islands. He was treated with all 272 THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY. honor while in both countries. Es- pecially was he welcomed in japan. The Sun, published at Tokio, said in a lengthy notice of his visit: Two thoughts strike us on the recent visit of this octogenarian educator from America. One is the wonderful energy. il not boldness, of a man of his age planning a trip around the world. . . . Dr. Northrop has delivered thirty-eight lectures in the short space of two months, and was as fresh and ready after the lecture as before, to talk on another hour or so. . . . His one motive seems to have been that which actu- ated him twenty-five years ago to take up the Shimonoseki indemnity cause: namely. to benefit Japan. . . . In Kyoto where he visited the schools and other institutions in company with the Vice-Minister of Edu- cation, he addressed a meeting of three thousand people. Among the ~ d u c ational lectures which Dr. Northrop gave during this trip were Arbor Day lec- tures; and he succeeded in having Arbor Day estab- lished in Ja~ pan; the date which was chosen for ob- serving it was N ovember third, the Em- perors birth- day, when every child is supposed to plant a tree in honor of his Majesty. The Tokio Club entertained Dr. Northrop at a banquet, where many noblemen were present, and a wel- coming speech was made by Pro- fessor Kanda, the representative of the former Japanese students in America. The year before Dr. Northrops visit to lapan he received this letter from Inoceye Kowashi, the Minister of State for Education: Allow me to express to you my cordial thanks for your continued and earnest ef- forts in promoting the interests of this country. I have no doubt that it is the result of your recommendation for many years past that the Arbor Day is now uni- versally observed in the schools in your country. There is no celebration of the kind in Japan, but it may probably be ob- served in our schools in future. The Japanese Emperor recognized Dr. Northrop~ s services for Japan, and gracefully remembered hi.m. The government sent to Dr. Northrop a magnificent set of china, made and designed especially for him, each piece bearing his initials. Mr. Northrop realized most clearly the possibilities of Japan, and it was significant that so near the end of his life he should have visited the land that had so long en- listed his sym- pathies. Dr. Nor- throp also lec- tured in Ha- xvaii in the interests of Arbor Day, which is now obse r v e d there; and he also exerted himself in be- half of educa- tional interests in China. In 1872 China had sent thirty boys to this country to be educated, and they were placed under Dr. Northrops super- vision; but before their educational courses were finished they were re- called to China on account of some suspicious idea on the part of the Chinese government. During Dr. Northrops visit to Japan, in J895, he discovered that Yung Choy, one of the Chinese boys whom he had MRD5Ex ~1SJtN1 ~JKTHROP. THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY. 273 charge of in the seventies, was a prisoner of war, held captive by the Japanese until an exchange of prison- ers should be made. A return to China meant torture and death for Captain Choy, as he had been mis- represented there by enemies. Dr. Northrop pleaded with Japanese offi- cials for the release of Captain Choy, that he might depart whither he would; and he was allowed to escape secretly in the night. When last heard from, he was living in Hong Kong, under British protection and, as may well be imagined, his grati- tude to his benefactor was unbounded. It was in i8y6 that Dr. Northrop began his real organized work toward establishing Arbor Day, when he started the movement of centennial tree planting, a movement in which he was ably seconded by the mress, and which spread widely through the country, everywhere meeting with en- thusiasm. The object and motto of this centennial tree planting was: Honor the heroes of 1776 by some good deeds, xvhose fruits may survive 1976. Dr. Northrop offered prizes to any teachers or pupils in Connec- ticut, who would plant five trees of specified height and kind,as this movement took place during his term of office on the School Board of Con- necticut. In 1877 Dr. Northrop visted Eu- rope, andwhile he was there he made a study of forestry in Europe; he also studied the subject of the drainage of waste lands, and the school systems of Europe, to see wherein the schools abroad were in advance of or behind those of the United States. In Switzerland alone he visited the schools in one hundred cantons. As a result of this visit he wrote Educa- tion Abroad, Forestry in Europe, and Lessons from European Schools. When Dr. Northrop went abroad Dr. William T. Harris, now our com- missioner of education, wrote of him in a letter of introduction: Dr. Northrop has interested himself very much of late years in the subject of forestry, and has created by his lec- tures a widespread activity in the sev- eral states of this country, in the planting of trees and the care for their preservation. Timothy Dwight, late president of Yale College, wrote: Mr. Northrop has been for many years prominent in educational work in our country, and also in the work of beautifying our towns and vil- lages. In the year 1883 Dr. Northrop gave up active educational work and devoted his time altogether to the in- terests of Arbor Day and Village Im- provement; and he has been truly called the great apostle of Arbor Day. It was in 1883 that the Amer- ican Forestry Association made him chairman of a committee to push the movement for Arbor Day, and this position he held as long as he lived. Throughout his educational work he had urged the beautifying of vil- lages and tree planting, and, as he himself said, his interest grew with years and results. His devotion to this work was not a fad; it was a iaission which was inspired by benev- olence and philanthropy. The method which Dr. Northrop pursued in extending this movement of improving the towns and planting trees was that of lecturing in the vari- ous states, writing for papers on these subjects, and issuing pamphlets; and to this work he constantly devoted himself. When he arrived at a place to lecture in the evening, before even- ing came he had ridden all about the town and noted with keen observa- tion what the town lacked; and in his lecture he would point out to his audience these faults in their town, and tell them how things could be avoided and remedied. He frequently aroused so great an interest in his subject among the audience that then and there a subscription would be started for bettering the condition of the town. J. Sterling Morton, some years ago, when governor of Nebraska, es 274 THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY. tablished tree planting in that state in order to redeem the waste tracts of land there; fr6m this germ the thought of establishing Arbor Day for educational and memorial purposes sprang into life in Dr. Northrops mind, and side by side with it grew the thought of village improvement societies. He emphasized the fact that the home is the nucleus of the real life of the nation, and in his lectures and writings he pleaded the necessity of making the home attractive and beau- tifying the outdoor surroundings by trees. Many men can point to their mothers as their first inspiration in their lives, and it was so with Dr. Northrop; he~ said that when he was a small boy his mother one day showed him how to plant a tree, and this act held a significance for him ever after. Several lecturing tours were made by him through the South, when he exerted himself to the utmost to aid in bettering the condition of the negroes, whose miserable ill lighted, ill ventilated hovels he deplored. lilt was largely through his efforts that Daniel Hand gave his great gift of a million and a quarter dollars for the education of the southern freedmen. Many men who wished to endow some beneficent institution for their native places or elsewhere came to Dr. Northrop for advice. Such was the case with Mr. Charles Pratt of Brooklyn, who frequently consulted with Dr. Northrop about the plans for the Pratt Institute. The Hotch- kiss School at Lakeville, Connecti- cut, was given by Mrs. Hotchkiss through Dr. Northrops endeavors. Mr. Barney consulted with him in regard to giving Springfield, Massa- chusetts, its park. In many such ways Dr. Northrop exerted his in- fluence. Through his efforts Arbor Day is now recognized in nearly every state in the Union. It is even observed in Australia, and European countries have followed the example of Japan and Hawaii in its observance. Can- ada recognizes it. In 1853 there existed in Stock- bridge, Massachusetts, a society for beautifying that town. Mr. Hillhouse of New Haven, about one hundred years ago, started a Public Green Association. But no one before Dr. Northrop had taken up the founding of such societies and organized it into a distinct movement. As he said, the movement plainly met a public want; for the pleasure grounds of our fathers were small, and their sentiments were formed upon models of utility rather than beauty. The objects of these societies were many; they were to do away with everything that in any way marred the beauty of the town, its healthful-~ ness or moral tone. Dr. Northrop was the great advo- cate of removing fences from the front of houses, urging the people of the towns to trust the boys, and the boys have proved trustworthy. In i888 Dr. Northrop visited California, a state which had already adopted Vil- lage Improvement Societies and had advanced in beauty far ahead of some of her less active eastern sisters; and Pasadena, whose only paths were sheep paths before the founding of her Village Improvement Society, grew into a veritable Eden. There are hundreds of towns all over the United States that can point to the father of Village Improvement Soci- eties as a benefactor. Many towns in the East, already lovely by nature, have been greatly benefited, and their beauty enhanced, by following the suggestions offered by Dr. Northrop, such towns as Litchfield, New Mil- ford and Norfolk, in Connecticut, and Barre, Great Barrington, Lenox and others in Massachusetts. A New York paper not many years ago said: The suburbs of New York, which nature made beautiful, but which man is doing his best by corruption and jobbery to make mean and un- lovely, offer abundant opportunities to put Mr. Northrops instruction AURORAL. 275 into practice. Dr. Northrop did do much for New York state; even lovely Geneseo in western New York, seemingly too attractive to need im- provement, welcomed Dr. Northrop, and benefited by the organizing there of an Improvement Society. As this great organizer and worker under- stood so perfectly the principles of forestry, he was eminently fitted for his mission. His love of nature was intense; he felt a real affection for growing things, and he most truly ap- preciated the effect which beautiful and noble trees have on mankind. He recognized the moral influence that the study and care of a growing thing like a tree have on the nature of a. child, and the philanthropic trend it would give a youthful character to ob- serve a d~y in which trees should be planted, that they mig~ht add to the comfort and happiness of a coming generation. Shortly before ]~r. Northrops death Dr. John Greene of Lowell, Massachusetts, wrote to him: I want to express my hope that you will give the world an autobiography. The facts which you stated to me, on our journey to Andover in 1896, have often come to .me, and I have wished the world could have the benefit of the struggles and the victory of your life as you could tell them. Dr. Northrop retained full vigor of mind until he died. In the winter of 1897 he took an extended trip through the Southern States, lectur- ing sometimes twice a day. On this trip he visited and lectured at many negro schools, where his talks were listened to eagerly. A great deal of Dr. Northrops work was done with- out asking or expecting remunera- tion, and all of his work in the negro schools was done in this way. This southern work in 1897 was almost his last work. He died at Clinton, Connecticut, April 28, 1898. This is a slight glimpse of the life work of a good man, one who was blessed in living to see the successful accomplishment of many of his useful and noble endeavors. The best of all things can be said of him: the world is better because he has lived. AU RORAL. By Henry L. Mencken. ANOTHER day comes journeying with the sun; The east grows ghastly with the dawnings gleam, And eer the dark has flown and night is done The citys pavements with their many teem. Another day of toil and grief and pain; Life surely seems not sweet to such as these; Yet they live toiling that they may but gain The right to life and all life~ s miseries. THE patter of the raindrops overhead Sometimes, at night, commingles with my dreams. It sounds, through those soft shadows round me spread, Like the low murmuring of distant streams, A sweet, a soothing, far-off melody, Before whose charm all earthly sorrows flee. It is the song we heard in days gone by; The song we knew and loved from early birth, Full of the primal love that cannot die The tender mother-song of all the earth, So low, so sweet, so full of peace unsaid, This patter of the raindrops overhead. The patter of the raindrops overhead Sometimes, at night, is full of fierce unrest. It falls upon ones spirit like the tread Of some vast, conquering army, wrath-possessed, A strong, stern host, which no weak mercy knows, Btit seeks a just revenge on guilty foes. It is the footfall of the vanished years, The rising of the old, forgotten sins With their swift retinue of shame and fears. Then, as the wind with its long sob begins, It is the echo of the tears long shed, This patter of the raindrops overhead. The patter of the raindrops overhead Arouses thoughts which I would fain forget: Of days to come, when I shall find a bed With the green grass alone for coverlet. Then, when the rain falls, will it be that I Shall sleep the sweeter for its lullaby? Or shall I wake, and with wide, sleepless eyes Still vainly strive to pierce the encircling gloom, Feeling the sudden throb of pained surprise, The same bewildering fear of pending doom; Hearing with that strange sense of nameless dread, The patter of the raindrops overhead? 276 THE PATTER OF RAINDROPS. By Josephine Mason Leslie. A SYLVAN EPISODE. By Harriet A. Nash. PARE me, my dear fellow! Dr. Robert Parkhurst stretched his seventy inches of length at the foot of a birch tree, settling his head upon a con- venient root, with the bored air of one who listens to unwelcome confidences. The spot was one to lure even the most practical brain to day-dreams: behind, the rustic camp; before, at a little distance, the gleaming water, which bore the graceful appellation Cow Pond; all around, the silent forest bore witness to miles of soli- tude intervening between a popular M. D. on his triennial vacation and the dull grind of hospital work. The xvind among the rustling tree tops xvhispered the contrast between this sylvan retreat and sun-baked city streets, while the gentle lapping of waves against a boats side offered pleasant suggestions of the only cases likely to be encountered in this locality. Altogether the voices of nature were quite sufficient for Dr. Parkhurst on this July afternoon, and he would fain have dispensed xvith all other conversation, save perchance an occasional inquiry as to how soon the trout would develop an apptite for flies and some conversation re- garding the supper hour. He had chosen his companion for this trip with the utmost care; fot Dr. Parkhurst, having had some expe- rience with vacations in his college days, was not unfamiliar with that type of camper-out who can crowd even the Maine woods with his lo- quacity. But Blakesleyold Blakes- leythe man of all others, to whom every member of the club turned for advice, depositing perplexities, as it were, in the curiosity-proof vault of his sympathy, the man who thought deeply on many subjects, but spoke little on any, least of all of selfwas an ideal companion for a fishing trip. Moreover Blakesley was an expert angler and quite at home in the woods. The conditions at the outset, therefore, were all favorable. The first symptom of complication came when, as might have been expected, a serious case arose to detain Dr. Park- hurst in town for quite two weeks later than the date first fixed upon. Still, with full confidence in Blakes- leys judgment, the doctor had sent him ahead to spy out the most desir- able fishing ground; and Blakesley, establishing his headquarters in the little hotel at the last far-off point of communication with the outer world, had faithfully tramped from one fish- ing camp to another, sampling the at- tractions of each in turn, until he fixed upon the most desirablewhich regardless of expense he promptly secured a monopoly of. The occa- sional bulletins sent back breathed praises of pine woods, clear air and speckled beauties from the ponds, in an extravagant vein, which the doc- tor without suspicion noted was quite unlike Blakesley; but no hint had been given of any other matter occu- pying Blakesleys thoughts until to- day. It was fate, Dr. Parkhurst decided, as he lay under the birch tree, listen- ing with most unwilling ears to Blakesleys story, a non-committal expression and the visor of his, cap combining to conceal the sentiments aroused thereby. He reflected that when this sort of thing overtook fel- lows of Blakesleys stamp, it took them hard, like measles late in life,. 277 278 A SYLVAN EPISODE. begging his own pardon for even thinking shop on a holiday. But how unfortunate for the fellow to be seized with it on this trip,or, being Blakesley, to have it at all! The old fallacy that it comes once upon every man had been long ago exploded with the mistaken idea which led mothers to expose their children to scarlet fever, because they must have it some time,with a second apology and a half contempt for a mind that refused to be jostled out of profes- sional grooves. An irritable expres- sion from his companion aroused him. For goodness sake, Blakesley urged, put off that professional ex- pression and assume a human one, if you can. This isnt a case for the dissecting table, nor even a dose of quinine, and theres no reason why you should wear that very serious air with which you medical fellows greet everything, from a cut finger up to a broken neck. Maybe you are bored; Ive been bored myself before now; but I always tried to keep up a show of interest. A feeling of reproach so foreign to Dr. Parkhursts complacent nature that he hardly recognized it stirred him into something like regret for his protest. It did seem a little hard, he reflected, that Blakesley, who had listened to dozens of such confi- dences in his time, should find no sympathy when his own turn came. He turned on his side that he might face his companion. Go ahead, old man. You said she was president of a girls college somewhere, didnt you, and off here on a vacation? I said nothing of the sort, re- turned Blakesley, a little defiantly. I said she was teachingout here a piece. Dr. Parkhurst sat upright. My dear Blakesley, do you mean to tell me they have schools in this wilder- ness? I am sure the few natives I have met were never brought into contact with one. Oh, they dont have Boston ad- vantages, perhaps. But remember youre on Maine soil now; and Maine is above all others the state of the lit- tle red schoolhouse,and the red schoolhouse is noted for the quality of men it turns out. Its an institu- tion fast dying out in the thickly set- tled portions of the state; but here its still in its glory. Blakesley was waxing eloquent. I see. And this youngerper- son Dont ape English snobbishness, Parkhurst. Canadas some twenty miles farther north. Parkhurst laughed. This trainer of future presidents, then,which should be sufficiently American,is she native, or imported from the Kennebecor Bangor way? Blakes- ley rose to his feet with an offended air. Its clouding over, as Jake says. I think theyll bite now. Get out your lines while I untie the boat. No words of apology could bring him back to the former topic. I fear its serious, reflected Dr. IParkhurst, as he sat in the boats stern, glancing furtively from his lines to Blakesleys moody face. There was surely something wrong when a man could pull in a two- pound trout without enthusiasm. Yet it was amusing to think of Blakesley, the fastidious, who had never failed to find some flaw in the most attractive of his lady acquaint- ances, brought down at last by a country school-teacher, most likely with frizzled hair and a nasal twang,~~ decided Dr. Parkhurst. Its too bad. Blakesley mustnt throw him- self away in that manner. I must help him out some way, even against his will. There was plenty of time for re- flection during the evening, for Blakesley relapsed into a silence so depressing that his friend was finally driven to seek refuge with Jake, the guide. After twenty-four hours close acquaintance with Jake, Parkhurst knew better than to attempt in- quiries on any subject, but allowed A SYLVAN EPISODE. 279 J ake to choose his own topic, which led him into an account of big catches in former years. Feesh, declared Jake contemptuously, hand- ling the afternoons trophies with scanty respect, feesh aint nottings now. Must been twotreeyear ago seence we find some big catch. Two treefife poun, efery one. Come, come, Jake! Hope to die! Treefifesome seex, efery oneyaas. It was the next afternoon that Dr. Parkhurst, following the intricate windings of a little brook through the wilderness, came suddenly out of the dense forest upon a smooth, well- travelled roada discovery anything but welcome as he suddenly remem- bered that the nearest highway was fully five miles from camp, and a long tramp in his present wearied state was not an alluring prospect. Un- willing to retrace his steps over the rough path by which he had come, and denouncing himself for leaving camp without Jake, he looked about for human habitation where he might make inquiries. As far as he could see, the road stretched white and si- lent between huge tree trunks. The oppressive stillness was broken only by a chattering squirrel and the faint splashing of the brook which had led him thither. He wandered uncertain- ly along the road, until suddenly from behind a cluster of birches he came upon a little clearing, in which stood a solitary building. Fate again ! he murmured with a smile; for before him unmistakably stood the little red schoolhouse. He considered for a moment. He was lost. Clearly there could be no treason to Blakesley in inquiring his way back to camp. Two minutes later he was standing, cap in hand, in the low doorway, while a tall young woman greeted him politely and a dozen children left their books to stare at him. He quite forgot his er- rand for a moment, and stood gazing at the object of his friends interest, stammering like a schoolboy when her look of calm inquiry brought him back to his senses. The young woman showed no sign of embarrass- ment. Lost sportsmen were evident- ly no novelty to her; but a look of perplexity crossed her features as she listened. I could easily show you where to find the path, if school were out, she said. I doubt if I can tell you so you can find it. Parkhurst, nothing loath to rest his wearied limbs, protested that he didnt mind waiting an hour, and set- tled himself in the visitors chair which differed from the teachers in that it possessed a surviving arm while the young woman went on with her work. Not so her pupils, who betrayed a deep interest in every movement of the newcomer, until their teacher turned to Parkhurst, an- nouncing in a tone of regret that she might be detained after school, as there was every prospect that Amos Jones and several others would miss in spelling. This, said in a tone loud enough to reach all ears, had- the gratifying effect of fixing the pupils attention on their books. After ten minutes close observa- tion, the one adjective Dr. Parkhurst felt sure of as applicable to this young woman was superior, and as the ten minutes lengthened to twenty and thirty, he altered his opinion only by advancing the adjective to the super- lative degree. Handsome she was not; fine lookingwell, yes, with a glow of health on her smooth cheek that caught the instant attention of this man, to whom women were prin- cipally cases. Blakesley was guy- ing me, he decided at the end of the spelling lesson, in which Amos Jones and his classmates fortunately ac- quitted themselves with some degree of credit. This girl is out of her sphere some way. In the half mile walk up the road to the point where he must enter the woods, Dr. Parkhurst exerted him- self to draw out his companion, who conversed readily on such subjects as a8o A SYLVAN EPISODE. trout, lumber and hotels, but left him in complete ignorance as to herself. The few carefully worded questions which he ventured to put elicited only the information that she was fond of children and liked teaching, that this was not her first school, and that it was generally thought to b~ very cold here in winter. I begin to understand Blakesleys interest, mused Dr. Parkhurst, as he stood in the edge of the forest, watch- ing the slender figure down the road. But its really worse than J feared. Theres an air of mystery about her, that would readily entangle an un- sophisticated fellow like Blakesley. For Blakesley, in spite of his city training, is unsophisticated. Its well I came just as I did, for it needs a clear head to straighten out the mat- ter. I dont quite see how its going to be done. Halfway in his walk Parkhurst stopped suddenly and began seriously to take account of his personal ap- pearance. Hmm, lie soliloquized. Not so good looking as Blakesley, by far; but she dont strike .me as the kind of wonian who cares for looks. Blakesleys solid; but when it comes to talking, lies out of it. I used to get on in such matters fairly well, in my university days. I believe Ill try. No possible danger of complication, for iio womaii ever took me sen- ouslv. How to carry out his purpose with- out arousing 131akesleys suspicion troubled him. He felt quite sure the young woman would not encourage further visits to the schoolhouse; and in his heart he detested anything clandestine. Indeed the whole under- taking was most distastefulonly en- tered into for Blakesleys salvation. Fate assisted him once more, this time at the expense of the young teachers troublesome pupil. Coming in from fishing one afternoon, he was confronted by a messenger who de- manded his professional services. Amos Jones had broken his arm at school. How under the sun did they know I was a surgeon? inquired Dr. Parkhurst irritably; for he had no de- sire to mix professional work with his pleasure trip. Blakesley look~d apologetic. Im afraid i[ may have mentioned it last time I was out. I never thought of it getting you into trouble. You see, explained the messen- ger, theys a man at the settlement who sets bones; but since he left Jim Newman with a stiff leg last winter, and Jim had to go down to Bangor and have it broke and done over, folks dont want to take no chances with him. And it aint a very quick job gettin Dr. Nason from the Forks. But teacher, she happened to know about you bein a doctor, Blakesley looked conscious,and Mis Jones decided to chance it, though some folks thought twas~ risky trustin a stranger. Blakesley laughed; but Parkhurst, avoiding his eye, announced curtly that he was ready. The Jones domicile stood at the ex- treme end of the settlement,a huge weather-beaten house, giving an im- pression that the builders having spent too much for lumber, there was nothing left for paint. Dr. Park- hurst picked his way carefully through a tangle of lumbermens sleds and tools, which the tall grass struggled to conceal. This way, said his guide. The front door you see aint got no step, and the front entry aint floored over. Daves layin out to finish, as he gets to it. Trouble is, up here, they most all build big with the expectation of gettin rich; and then when they keep on stayin poor, things is out of pro- portion. But Dave aint one of that kind; hes gettin forehanded. Mrs. Jones, a thin woman in a pink calico dress, greeted the doctor civilly and looked him over with critical eye. You aint so young as I was afraid ~ she acknowledged candidly. Oh, no, I aint scared. A broken bone A SYLVAN EPISODE. aint much novelty here; Ive had five in ten years with him and the chil- dren. His side is an uncommonly brittle boned family. Most that wor- ries .me is that hes off on the drive now, and whatever goes wrongll be laid to me; so I hope youll do the best you can. Among the half dozen women who sat about, Dr. Parkhurst quickly recognized the school-teacher. Amos, looking rather pale, sat by the win- dow, stoically declaring that the arm didnt hurt none, and he wasnt afraid to have it set, and scornfully declining the an~sthetic the doctor of- fered. The fracture was a simple one and easily disposed of, the teacher giving most efficient help, while the oth- ers looked on with interest, and Mrs. Jones in the background con- stantly scolded Amos for his careless- ness. You done it quick and so far as I can see done it well, was her verdict to the doctor; but a cloud of disap- proval crossed her face as he com- menced measuring out drops from his medicine case. I hope you aint honmeopath? she said anxiously. Dr. Parkhurst guiltily acknowledged that he was. I dont know xvhat hell say, be- gan the mother. But the teacher in- terposed, drawing her one side. A half-whispered argument followed, the tenor of which Dr. Parkhurst could only guess as he continued dropping the medicine. Well, if youll be responsible; he thinks a lot of your judgment, he heard Mrs. Jones say at last. Sev- eral of the neighbors shook their heads, and two left the room. Amos looked contemptuously at the glass. Taint only cold water, he said. I could drink it all down at one s\xTaller Ill see that he takes it properly, the teacher assured Dr. Parkhurst. Im boarding here this week. He mentally decided to make his future calls after school hours, and, with parting directions, turned to go. But he had not learned the hospitable spirit of the Maine woods. You aint goin out of this house without your supper, declared Mrs. Jones. I baked seven blueberry pies to-day, so it aint a mite of put out. Teacherll set down and visit with you while I set the table. Unable to frame any excuse which was not overruled, Parkhurst yielded. Teacher proved an entertaining companion, though on reflection Parkhurst found her part had been chiefly that of listener; and he re- called with wonder that he had told her much about himself, without learning anything of her, save that one woman had called her Miss Davis. To the others she was Teacher. Throughout the supper, which included several other edibles besides blueberry pie, Mrs. Jones con- (lucted the conversation, her remarks l)eing principally a secondhand edi- tion of his opinions. He must be a remarkable man, Miss Davis, ventured the guest, as his hostess left the room to refill her cup from the tin teapot boiling on the stove in the open room. Miss Davis did not even smile. He is a good man and a sensible one, she replied. The women in this region have not got beyond the old idea of honoring their hus- bands. Parkhurst, whose attempts at a joke were wont to find a cordial re- ception, changed the subject with a sensation of reproof such as he had not felt since his boyhood. Shows the schoolmaam, after all, he re- flected. Wonder if she calls Blakes- ley down in that manner. Half piqued he exerted himself a little. Parkhurst, when he chose, was a rare conversationalist. The re- gret among his friends was that he did not oftener choose. Many a city host- ess would have rejoiced to enliven her dinner table with the sparkling flow of words that to-night brought a glow of gratification to Miss Daviss 282 A SYLVAN EPISODE. gray eyes, over Mrs. Joness tea table. He found that this country school- teacher was a thinker, and followed him easily through a forest of ideas, where he had thought to leave her hopelessly entangled. It was he who was left bewildered at the lastpuz- zling over this character which in Blakesleys behalf he was striving to sound. Dr. Parkhurst continued his visits daily. Amoss arm healed rapidly; but he made little progress with the other case, which occupied far more of his attention. The same sense of restraint that held him from mention- ing Blakesleys name prevented his making inquiries about Miss Davis, either from herself or others, though the curiosity from which his sex should have exempted him increased daily. On the third day he began to groxv suspicious. I dont like these women who keep you so utterly in the dark, he 5oliloquized. Theyre as bad in their way as the chattering onesand far more dangerous. Yet after his fourth visit he re- solved that he had no right to stand longer in Blakesleys wayfinding somewhat to his alarm that he was strangely reluctant to evacuate the field. I dont believe Blakesley half appreciates her, he reflected. She would grace any mans home,~~~t?his with a fleeting vision of a certain house on a city streetclosed since his mothers death. The thought brought him to a sudden standstill and promptly settled the question of summer vacations for future years. Theyre utterly demoralizing for a sensible man, he concluded, deciding to settle the matter by confiding in Blakesley without delay. But Blakes- ley was off on a long tramp, and came into camp at last weary and not in a mood to invite personalities; so nothing was said. It was on Saturday that Dr. Park- hurst made his last call, regretting that his patient was so far recovered that he could invent no excuse for coming again. Miss Davis was pre- paring to go awayfor school was over. A curious mixture of sensa- tions possessed Parkhurst, as with his most professional air he ques- tioned Mrs. Jones concerning the pa- tients condition, the relief he felt for Blakesleys sake mingling with some- thing that savored of regret for his own, yet with an underlying current of belief that fate was managing still and doing her bestboth for him and Blakesley. He was silent for a mo- ment, hesitating like one who, roused from pleasing dreams, would fain have slumbered on. Do you have a long journey? he inquired presently. Only a mile, she answered, look- ing up from the game of checkers she was playing with Amos. But you are not a native of this place ! Dr. Parkhurst exclaimed in surprise. No, I came from the Forks, twenty miles below here. But my husband belongs here. There, Amos, I have your king. I see. Despite chagrin at his own lack of perspicacity, Parkhurst felt a strong desire to laugh at the manner in which Blakesley had been taken in and his own needless anxiety, until there floated across his brain the un- comfortable suspicion that Blakesley must have discovered the error days ago. Mrs. Jones was telling a long story of her early home on Moose- head Lake; her talk rippled in and out of his thoughts. Bother the fellow! ejaculated Parkhurst mentally, as he counted the bright disks on the button rug at his feet. What a fool I was to check him at the start! However, it was of no use opening the subject again. Blakesley was a man whose confi- dence could not be forced. There were forty of the buttons, counting lengthwise. He had begun counting across, when the sound of wheels aroused him. The teacher, with more animation than he had seen her dis A SYLVAN EPISODE. 283 play in any cause, dropped the checker-board and slipped out through the side door. A moment later there came into sight through the window a fine black horse and open wagon. The teacher was walk- ing beside the team, looking delight- edly up into the face of a huge young man who was driving. Hes been superintendin the drive, volunteered Mrs. Jones; and shes worried a good deal about him. Time hes been on the drive sixteen summers, like my man, shell be used to it, perhaps; though theres always worry, more or less. Lumberin in winter and drivin in summerthats how we live. It gets into the blood, like any other trade; and when the logs begin to run in the spring, they hear the river callin till they cant keep away. Sometimes I think its well the Lord made us to take to the kind of work thats ours to do, and sometimes again I wish we didnt take most to the kinds thats danger- ous. Oh, yes, as I say, theres always worryin. Ive had two brothers drowned, drivin the Kennebec. My family and his has always been at it. But were plannin on makin a scholar of Amos. Not much you aint, interposed that young gentleman. Im goin on the drive when Im sixteen. His mother gave him a reproving glance. \Vell, timell tell, she said resignedly. I aint one that crosses no bridges till they get to em. But as I was sayin, doctor, Mis Davis is finer educated than most of us, and it does seem as if that kind worries more. She graduated down to North Amherst, besides taking lessons in Bangor several winters. Then again shes a great reader. At that moment the teacher re- turned, a bright color on her smooth cheek. We can take you quite a piece on your way, doctor, she said cordially. And Henrys anxious you should stop and take supper with us. He has a brother sick down river, who is being treated by a doctor of your school, and he wants to ask you about it. Dr. Parkhurst accepted the invita- tion, glad to set Henrys doubts at rest by cordially endorsing the treat- ment,and guilty moreover of a strong curiosity to meet the husband of this woman. He made an effort to adjust his mental equilibrium as they drove along the smooth road, and tried to identify Mrs. Davis with the woman he had been studying. There was no air of mystery about this one, nothing at all extraordinary, he began to be conscious after a lit- tle; she was simply a bright, well edu- cated girl, attractive in many ways, and showing to the best possible ad- vantage in the rusfic setting. What a difference the point of view makes with most people ! mused Dr. Park- hurst. It was a pleasant little home. He noted with interest that the sleds and implements, invariable adjuncts of a lumbermans dwelling place, were piled under an open shed at one side. The small house stood with its end towards the road, and the smooth space before it was carefully staked out. The hosts eyes followed Park- hursts. Thats only the L, he ex- plained in a voice trained to be heard above the sound of rushing waters. I calculate on gettin the house part up another year. Little at a time and pay as you go, I say. Dr. Parkhurst felt himself half con- sciously transferring his interest from Mrs. Davis to her husband, as ac- quaintance became closer, and he recognized that, behind the strong, simple character, lay a keen business ability and a shrewd knowledge of men and things. Though shes got most of the learning, Henry explained in a slightly regretful tone, I dont know but what it looks funny to strangers to see her off teaching. But its pretty lonesome when Im gone; and since we lost the baby last year The deep voice shook a little. 284 A SYLVAN EPISODE. Parkhurst returned to camp fully determined to ignore all feeling of re- straint between himself and Blakes- ley. But Blakesley in his turn warded off all advances, and the old cordial relation was hard to re-estab- lish. So it happened that neither re- gretted it when a specially urgent case called Dr. Parkhurst back to the city, three days later. I think Ill hang around here a while longer, Blakesley said, color- ing a little. Im not due in town till September. It was January before they met again. Then Blakesley came into the doctors office quite in the old way, with a touch of neuralgia for a pre- text. By the way, Blakesley, remarked IParkhurst, after they had discussed the club, the latest new book, politics and the newest engagement, what became of the little school-teacher we so nearly quarrelled over last sum- mer Blakesley laughed and looked a lit- tle foolish. Well, you see, he ex- plained slowly, I got rather taken in ther& She seemed such a fresh, nat- ural sort of a girl that I thought her a rare specimen of the backwoods. I never doubted she was native to the place. Parkhurst smiled. I see, he said. Well, I didnt, retorted Blakes- ley; for she turned out to be a hot- house production after alla Welles- ley girl with a missionto carry culture to the backxvoods. But I must say she did it well and mixed with the people as if shed been born among them. But, of course, after one found her out, she was just like a hundred other girls who havent been out of college long. So it fell through? said the doc- tor. Nonot exactly. Were engaged. But its not to be announced just yet. Shes taking a post graduate course at Yale and getting cured of some of her illusions, she says. Dr. Parkhurst wrote a prescription and carefully measured out a dozen powders before he spoke again. Blakesley, he said at last, were there two school districts down there? Two? Why, yes, I suppose so. North and South Forestville come together right there, and I believe there is a schoolhouse at each ex- tremity. Yes, there were two. I understand, said Dr. Parkhurst. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. By Emerson 0. Stevens. AN army of 26,705 men, an army larger than the combined infan- try, cavalry and artillery forces of the regular standing army before the outbreak of the Spanish war, is an army which the United States Gov- ernment is maintainingis clothing, feeding and shelteringnot for the purpose of invasion nor for defence nor for military display, but because of former service faithfully performed. This army of over twenty-six thou- sand men is simply the number of old soldiers cared for during the last year by the United States Govern- ment in the various branches of the National Home for Disabled Volun- teer Soldiers. A city of more than six thousand inhabitants, with miles of shady streets, with post office, theatre, club, hotel, a court of justice, a bank, libra- ries and reading rooms, a ce.metery, stores, waterworks, a fire depart- ment, churches, hospitalsa city where each citizen receives free of charge his board, clothes and lodg- ing, together with care when sick, where more than five-sixths of the citizens receive in addition allowances of from six to seventy-two dollars a month paid in gold, and where no citizen need do a stroke of work ex- cept to make his own bed and to pare potatoes once in nine weekssuch a city represents a single branch of the National Home for Disabled Volun- teer Soldiers. Hawthorne, writing in 1862, used these words: It is very seldom that we can be sensible of anything like kindness in the acts or relations of such an artificial thing as a national government. Our own government, I should conceive, is too much an abstraction ever to feel any sympathy for its maimed sailors and soldiers, 285 though it will doubtless do them a severe kind of justice as chilling as the touch of steel. Never perhaps was there a more striking example of pessimistic false prophecy. The National Home for Disabled Volun- teer Soldiers, to say nothing of the colossal pension roll, is a refutation of the charge of the ingratitude of republics, of this republic at least. From its establishment in i86~ up to June, 1897, it had cared for 88,ooo disabled volunteer soldiers. At the present time, when nearly two hun- dred thousand more volunteers have become possible future inmates, some account of the history, organization and xvork of the Home should be es- pecially interesting. By poets, curiously enough, and not by warriors, the idea of the Sol- diers Home was conceived. William Cullen Bryant, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, with Horace Greeley and others, were among the first movers in the matter of a National Home for Volunteer Soldiers. They embodied their ideas in a memorial, which was presented to the Senate on the eighth of December, 1864, in which they asked Congress to make suitable ap- propriation, or to take such other ac- tion in reference to the subject as the representatives and the states shall deem proper, to promote an object of such vast national importance and so pregnant with the interests of thou- sands of citizens of the Union who have given all their best energies to their country and who have been ren- dered helpless by such devoted ser- vice. To this petition were subjoined the names of many of the most distin- guished people in the country, both men and women. Congress, with ad- mirable promptness, granted the pe 286 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. tition by passing a law, in March, 1863, for the establishment of the Home. By this act a corporate body was created, and in this corporation were enrolled the names of a vast pro- portion of the eminent men of the conntry. The business of this cor- poration was intrnsted to a board of managers; and in March, i866, the statnte was so amended as to include in the board of managers, ex officio, during their term of office, the Presi- dent of the United States, the Secre- tary of War, and the Chief Justice of the United States. The first meeting of the board of managers was held in Washington, May i6, i866. At this meeting there were present Chief justice Chase, Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War, Major-General Benjamin F. Butler, Governor Fred- erick Smythe, Major-General P. J. Osterhaus, Hon. George H. Walker, Jay Cooke, and Hon. Lewis B. Gunc- kel. They elected as officers Major- General B. F. Butler, president; Ma- jor-General P. J. Osterhaus, first vice- president; Hon. George H. Walker, second vice-president; Hon. Lewis B. Gunckel, secretary. The officers of the present board of managers are General William B. Franklin, presi- dent; General William J. Sewell, first vice-president; General John L. Mitchell, second vice-president; Gen- eral Martin T. McMahon, secretary. The National Home for Volunteer Soldiers consists of seven branches all under the di- rection of the board of manag- ers and each under the imme diate supervision of a governor, who is appointed by and is respon- sible to the board. These branches are, in the order of their e st a b 1 is h m e n t, the Eastern, at Togus, Maine; the Central, at Dayton, Ohio; the Northwestern, near Mil- waukee, Wisconsin; the Southern, near Hampton, Virginia; the West- ern, at Leavenworth, Kansas; the Pacific at Santa Monica, California; and the Marion, at Marion, Indiana. The National Home, in these seven branches, occupies between four and five thousand acres of ground; and its land and buildings together have cost over five million dollars. It is main- tained at a cost to the government of over three million dollars annually. Previously to 1875 the branches were established and supported by all stop- pages or fines adjudged by court mar- tial or military commission against volunteer officers, soldiers or seamen, by forfeiture on account of desertion from the volunteer service, by money due deceased volunteers which re- mained unclaimed for three years, and by Treasury drafts. Since 1875 the Home has been maintained by direct and specific appropriations by Con- gress. The nation has thus far, for buildings, land and maintenance of the Home, devoted between forty-five and fifty million dollars to the support of its disabled soldiers,surely a not en- tirely ungrateful and unsympathetic republic! What does this vast amount of money represent? What do the vet- erans get for it? Is it a stern kind of justice as chilling as the touch of A GLIMPSE OF THE SOLDIERS HOME, DAYTON, OHIO. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. 287 steel? Some account of the work of a single branch will give a better idea of the scope and extent of the whole than an attempt merely to describe all in general terms. For this purpose the Central Branch, as being the larg- est and most important branch of the Home, may be selected for descrip- tion, although any description in the space at command must be inade- quate. Doubtless most people who have heard the words Soldiers Home have not given them sufficient atten- tion to form a conception of their meaning. If asked to give their idea of a Soldiers Home probably nine out of ten would find their amorphous impressions slowly crystallizing into a notion not widely different from that of the writer before a visit to the Day- ton Home,which was of a long brick building, with trees and garden seats, and an iron fence in front. Nothing could be more remote from the reality. The Dayton Home is literally a city, complete in itself. It occupies a square mile of ground three miles west of Dayton, a beautiful city of 85,000 inhabitants, and there are few more lovely spots., both in point of natural advantage and tasteful im- provement. Situated on a high plateau which overlooks for miles the beautiful valley of the Miami, the grounds have been laid out so as to preserve and increase their park-like character, and the visitor is constantly under the impression that he is wan- dering through some beautiful public park. Miles of smooth, wide mac- adam road wind about, now through shady hollows, now up on a sunny hill, whence the eye sweeps over a wide expanse of peaceful rural beauty, now past conservatories, flower gar- dens and rare plants and trees, now along the margin of a placid lake or the boundary of a park where browse peacefully a herd of graceful deer. The Central Branch of the Soldiers Home is the largest institution of its kind in the world. Its six hundred acres of ground have cost nearly one hundred thousand dollars, and it has nearly a hundred buildings, all of them large. which have been erected at a cost of nearly a million and a half of INsPEcTION, DAYTON. 288 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. dollars. It has at present on its rolls over seven thousand names; and since its opening in 1867 it has cared for over thirty-three thousand disabled veterans. The number in residence at present is over six thousand. The Soldiers Home at Dayton is visited by multitudes of people, many from far places. During the year ending in June, 1896, over 315,000 people visited the grounds, including forty-eight special excursions. To see in one day everything to be seen would more than tire out a vigorous walker. In Dayton all roads lead to the Soldiers Home,or nearly all street car lines. Three different lines run to the grounds. At the princi- pal street car terminns is a neat sta- tion and waiting room for visitors, at which an electric car arrives from the city every two minutes. From the main entrance roads lead in various directions. Proceeding up the centre road, which winds in its ascent over a succession of terraces, we come to Headquarters. Headquar- ters is a large three-story brick build- ing, facing sonth, and distinguished fro.m all other buildings on the grounds by the national flag floating above it. This is the executive de partment of the Home. Here are the governors office, the adjutants of- fice and the bank. Colonel J. B. Thomas, the present governor of the Home, is a courteous and cultivated gentleman, in whom are united the tact and firmness necessary to govern successfully more than six thousand men. He has been identified with the Home since its establishment. In the adjutants office all the records of the Home are kept, and here com- plete information concerning any one of the seven thousand members of the Home .may be obtained at a mo- ments notice. The bank, which occupies half the lower floor of the Headquarters build- ing, is no trifling institution. It per- forms most of the functions implied by its name. From the bank is paid out to the pensioners in the Home every three months about $175,000 in gold, or nearly three-quarters of a million dollars a year. Of the six thousand inmates, over five thousand draw pensions. The pensions range in amount from six to seventy-two dollars a month. In the different State Homes for volunteer soldiers, of which there are twenty-six in the country, half the pension of the UPPER LAKE AND CONSERVATORY, DAYTON. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. 289 soldier is withheld towards his partial support. In the National Home the soldier receives the full amount of his pension, without any deduction, in addition to his clothes and support. A considerable proportion of the money received by the pensioners is sent home to their families. A good idea of the magnitude of the National Home may be gained from the amount of money and the number of packages passing through the post office of the Central Branch alone, which occupies a separate building near the main entrance. During the last year $46,138.12 was sent out of the Home through the post office in money orders and postal notes. Dur- ing the year there were handled in the post office 691,065 pieces of mail. Letters and postal cards to the num- ber of 216,810 were mailed, and 212,- 650 letters and. postal cards were re- ceived; 37,960 newspapers and pack- ages were mailed and 223,745 were received. With Headquarters as a starting point, a stroll through the grounds of the Home is one long to be remem- bered. Immediately in front of the Headquarters, looking south, is a large lawn or campus of several acres. In the centre of this is a gayly painted and picturesque pagoda, where an ex- cellent band of thirty-four pieces plays each afternoon in pleasant weather. The selections are a judicious mixture of popular airs and classical pieces, and the music is a most interesting feature of the day. Everywhere, bluecoats! for in this city of over six thousand inhabitants only one hundred and six are civilians. Il3luecoats we see everywhere,here one asleep by himself un- der the shade of a friendly tree, there a group in the shade of a building, some busy, others idling. Some shuffle along with the palsied unstead- iness of decrepitude; others, so far as a casual glance reveals, are in robust health. Passing along one of the drives I heard the sounds of talking MONUMENT IN CEMETERY, DAYTON. HOSPITAL, DAYTON. 290 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. THE SOLDIERS HOME AT TOGIJS, MAINE. and laughter. They proceeded from a shady nook beside the road, half hidden by thick shrubbery, where half a dozen bluecoats were seated about a rustic table talking and joking sub tegmine fagi; while farther away, breaking in upon these cheerful sounds, I heard with a shudder that horribly hollow, gasping rattle of a cough, the sound of which no one can mistake, and I saw, faltering along in the sunshine, the victim on whose fea- tures the dread disease had placed its seal, the letters of which read death. In another place I noticed beside the road, appearing from underground apparently, the black hat, then the blue coat, and finally the entire form of an old soldier. Proceeding I gazed down into a most beautiful grotto, en- tirely overshadowed by trees and en- livened by the cheerful sound of fall- ing water. Stone steps led down to it from the road, and a number of vet- erans were below quenching their thirst in the cool water of the spring. They have other sources for quenching their thirst, as we shall see. The piping time of peace may perhaps be no- where so vividly realized as here. If nine out of ten of the inmates seem to carry canes, it would not be much of an Hibernicism to assert that eleven out of every ten have pipes in their mouths. I am convinced that Little Rob- in Reed never enrolled his name among the defenders of his country. To almost every mem- ber I saw the words of the song would fittingly apply: Now this old soldier had money in his socks, So he always had tobacco in his old tobacco box! The Home is un- der military organ- ization, and every- where we meet with military terms. The lodging houses of the veterans are known as barracks. These bar- racks are thirty-five in number, two and three stories high, and are grouped upon eleven different ave- nues named after as many different states. The older buildings are of wood, the newer ones of brick. All are thoroughly lighted, heated and ventilated. They are all tree embow- ered, and have broad verandas at each story. There is ample space between the buildings, with greensward and walks and beds for the cultivation of flowers and small shrubbery, in which many of the members occupy much of their time in summer. Each barrack is in charge of a captain, who is ap- pointed by the governor from the members of the Home, and is respon- sible for the care and conduct of the men under him. Within, everything is immaculate. Long rows of iron THE LAWN AT TOGUS. 291 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. beds line each side of the long room. full regiments of them, and seat them- Each man must keep his bed and the selves at the sound of the gong. An- space about it neat and clean. Most of ther gong, and they fall tot yarely. the barracks contain each several hun- The food provided is good and whole- dred men. They retire at nine oclock some and of abundant quantity. and rise at five. A pathetic sight is a The bill of fare for Sunday is: Break- barrack for the blind. In the Home fastham or sausage, potatoes, are 47 members totally blind and 197 bread, butterine, coffee; dinner partially blind. Four readers for the roast mutton, potatoes, string beans blind are employed. The colored or Lima beans or dried peas, pickles, members have a separate barrack; bread, butterine, coffee, pies; supper and there are over 150 of them. New stewed dried fruit or watermelons members of the Home, before they or fresh berries, sugar cookies, bread, are admitted to any barrack, must go butterine, tea. Monday: Breakfast into quarantine. They are taken to baked beans with pork or beef fricas- a barrack for that purpose, where they see with hominy, bread, butterine, coffee; dinnervegetable or bean soup, roast beef, pickles, bread, pota- toes, crackers, butterine, coffee; sur- percorn meal or rolled oats, syrup, bread, biscuit, butterine, cheese. And so on through the week. The weekly bill of fare is changed every quarter. The amount of food consumed at each meal is s taggering. For the Sun- day breakfast, 2,800 pounds of ham or must bathe and are 2,950 pounds supplied with second- of sausage hand clothing until are consumed. transferred. Godli- For each meal ness in the Home is when potatoes not imperative, but are served, it the next thing to it is takes 34 bush- insisted upon, for U1I~1(A tLOU5E, TOGUS. els. 8oo each member of the institution, will pounds of bread and 175 pounds he, nill he, must take a bath once a of oleomargarine are consumed at week. Every week each barrack re- each meal. If pickles are served it ceives tickets for each inmate, and if takes 30 gallons. The Home is evi- within a certain time every ticket has dently within the great pie belt, for not been presented at the bath house 1,250 pies are eaten at dinner. It re- the unfortunate delinquent is caught quires 450 pounds of beans, when and made to take his bath. they have baked beans. i8o pou.nds Conveniently situated within the of coffee and 135 pounds of tea are group of barracks is the mess hall. consumed at a meal. ~o gallons of Here over three thousand men sit syrup are required for their corn down at the first table every day in meal. It take i ,o5o quarts of ber- the year. Two sittings are required, ries to a meal. If soup is served, from each meal, to accommodate all the 500 to 750 gallons are made, accord- members. It is a sight worth seeing, ing to the kind. A feeble attempt to to watch the veterans file in, three satisfy the Teutonic element is made 292 by serving 282 pounds of sauerkraut at a meal. 2,500 cantaloupes are served at a meal. On two mornings of the week corned beef hash is served for breakfast, and it requires 4,000 IN THE GARDEN AT Itit MILWAUKEE HOME. pounds of it each meal. Two tons of hash is a serious matter. It requires for a meal 4,250 pounds of spinach or 56 bushels of onions. One learns with apprehension that 2,640 green cucumbers are served at a meal. Of fresh lake trout 2,950 pounds are served at a timeand so on. What- ever else the lot of a member of the Home he does not go hungry. To feed and serve this army three times a day requires 126 cooks, 238 waiters, 159 dishwashers, 44 bakers, i8 butch- ers and 22 bread cutters, to say nothing of 49 farm hands and 54 gar- deners. The only compulsory duty of members not otherwise employed is kitchen duty, such as paring pota- toes, etc. This duty comes to each man about one week in nine. The oldest and one of the largest buildings on the grounds is the hos- pital. The main building is a huge structure of cherry-colored brick, three stories high and 293 feet long. There have recently been erected a large annex and a number of outlying wards for special cases of a chronic character. The entire bed capacity is over eight hundred. The staff con- sists of 7 surgeons and 244 nurses, including 26 civilians, of whom i3 are women. The number of cases treated in the hospital during the last year was over two thousand, while the total number of cases treated among members, each case being counted but once during the year, was over six thousand. Per- haps no other feature of the Home appeals so directly to what the in- firm soldier needs as the hospital. Here he receives all that the best medical skill and kindest nursing can give. No service in the hos- pital is perfor.med in a perfunctory manner. Each patient is sure that he has done for him all that can be done ; and those who have been in the hospital for treatment speak of itwith enthusiasm. One of the members with whom I talked said that he was out on furlough most of the time; but, said he, I am subject to the inflammatory rheumatism, and when I get that, or anything else is the matter with me, 1 makeabreak for the Soldiers Home. Such testimony is a valuable tribute to the skill, kindness and earnestness of the hospital corps. Chilling as the touch of steel does not apply to the tender touch of the hospital nurse. A club, says Dr. Johnson, is an assembly of good fellows, meeting under certain conditions. A visit to the veterans clubhouse would con- vince any visitor that under the above definition it fully justifies its name. One scarcely expects to find in a home for disabled soldiers a complete modern clubhouse; nevertheless, there it is. The club is a new build- ing in the renaissance style, and is perhaps architecturally the most pleasing on the grounds. It was built to meet most of the require- ments of a modern clubhouse. A large central hall divides the building THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. 293 into two sections. On one side of the lower floor is the billiard room, over- looked by two tiers of galleries, back of which are small rooms for varions club purposes. The opposite side of the entrance hall is occupied by two large halls, the upper one of which is used by different organizations of the members, such as the Grand Army of the Republic, the Union Veteran Union, the Union Veteran League, and the Naval Veterans Association. 1 he lower hall, known as the social hall, is used by the members in com- mon for visiting, reading, writing, card playing, chess, etc. Billiards, bowling, cards, chess and other amusements are provided for. Every member of the Home is thereby a member of the club so long as he con- ducts himself properly. There are no committees, no blackballing. As we visit this clubhouse and watch these battle scarred warriors in friendly contest over billiards or seven ~ we cannot help contrasting the per- fect peace and security of their pres- ent life with the horrible scenes of carnage, toil and privation which they have experienced. They might say, with the detestable Gloster: Now are our brows bound with victori- ous wreaths. Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful meas- ures: Grim-visaged war bath smoothed his wrinkled front. Nothing seems to have been omit- ted for the comfort, care and enter- tainment of the veterans. When I was told that they had a theatre I imagined a kind of hall with a plat- form. I was surprised to find it to be just what it was said to be, not a lec- ture hall, but a complete theatre. Through a spacious foyer, panelled in harmonious colors and paved in mosaic, you come into a first-class, electric-lighted, steam-heated, mod- ern theatre, which in size, appoint- ments and tasteful embellishment would compare favorably with more than one metropolitan theatre. The house is carpeted, and the chairs are upholstered theatre chairs. The thea- tre has a seating capacity of over fif- teen hundred. On either side of the stage are boxes, and there are the usual balcony and gallery of the mod- ern theatre. The stage is fully THE FUNERAL ESCORT, MILWAUKEE. 294 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. equipped with scenery, and its ap- church during the last year, at a cost pointments in the way of dres~ing of over three thousand dollars. This rooms and other conveniences are church up to last year presented the superior to those of most theatres. anomaly of being a joint place of wor- The building, one of the most conspic- uous on the grounds, was erected in i88o. It faces the east, and in front of it t h e ground (lescends rap- ship for Protes- tants and Cath- olics. The Cath- olics now have a separate place of worship of their own in a handsome brick idly, while from its lofty tower chapel erected there is a view for miles over the during the last Miami valley, including the city of year. Religious worship is of Dayton. The prices for admission course purely voluntary. There are low, and parts of the house are are two Protestant chaplains. Ser- reserved for members under certain vices are frequently held by the conditions free of charge. Visitors Womens Christian Association of are admitted to the theatre. The best Dayton, and in the summer grove talent in the amusement world is en- meetings are held from time to time gaged each season. Shakespeares by the Salvation Army and the Chris- plays, the standard dramas, comic tian Alliance. opera, and the best orchestras are en- One of the most interesting spots gaged every year. Last season thirty on the ground is the library, a spa- different companies appeared at the cious three-story building, sheltered theatre. The entertainments are paid by trees, on, Ohio Avenue, directly in for out of the post fund, andlast y& ar the rear of the theatre. The lower cost over .tw~nty thousand dollars. floor is occupied by the reading room, Near the theatre stands the Prot- and it was gratifying to find this room estant chapel. It is a beautiful completely filled with veterans. Here Gothic structure of native freestone, 200 newspapers are received daily, faced with a light red stone, and its and 39 different magazines are on file, walls are nearly covered with a thick including the standard English, Ger- growth of American ivy. An excel- man and French periodicals. All the lent pipe organ was placed in the better American magazines are here. MAIN BUILDING AND WATER FRONT AT THE HOME AT HAMPTON, VIRGINIA. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. 295 The library proper is on the second floor, where are stored, in two tiers of bookcases, the books of the George H. Thomas library and the Putnam library. The war, says Lowell, in one of his most charming essays, was ended. I might walk townward withont the aching dread of bulletins that had darkened the July sunshine and twice made the scarlet leaves of October seem steeped in blood. He refers to the death of his three nephews in the war. One of these ensanguined Octobers bronght the death news of Lientenant William Lowell Pntnam, the poets yonngest nephew, a member of the Twentieth Massachusetts Regiment, who fell mortally wonnded, October 21, i86i, at the battle of Balls Bluff, while trying to save a wounded comrade. When taken to the hospital he said to the surgeon: Go to some one else to whom yon can do some good; yon cannot save me. To such a spirit, chivalrous i n no degree less than the gen- tle Sir Philip on the field of Zntphen, a worthy memo- rial was clue; a n d perhaps no more fitting tribnte to the memory of the yonng hero c o u ld h a v e TJAb ULIV1I~1LKY, I1AN[PTON. been conceived than the library which his mother, Mrs. Mary Lowell Put- nam, has fonnded for the benefit of the veterans of the Central Branch of the Soldiers Home. The Pntnam library was established in i868, and now nnmbers over ten thonsand vol- nines. Its fonnder continnes her benefactions yearly, having presented to the library last year 448 volumes. Mrs. Putnam has also presented to the library a number of pictures and works of art. I noticed particnlarly a large glass case filled with beautiful specimens of Mur~d~tb~d enamelled brass. An asylum for old soldiers is scarcely the place where one would look for East India metal work. Be- side the entrance door is a life-size portrait of Lientenant Pntnam, in the perfection of youthful beanty and manliness. For now he haunts his native land as an immortal yonth. Above the portrait was a magnificent wreath, and it was explained to me that on each anniversary of the death of Lientenant Putnam there comes a wreath of flowers, exqnisite in beauty and arrangement. This wreath is placed above the young heros por- trait, there to remain until, a year later, another comes to take its place. In the same building with the Put- nam library is the George H. Thomas library. This library contains be- tween nine and ten thousand volumes, and embraces all the books of the Home not belonging to the Putnam library. The libraries are catalogued 296 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. separately, the last catalogue of each library forming a large octavo volume of several hundred pages. In these two libraries are over twenty thou- sand volumes of standard literature and over two hundred of the best newspapers and magazines in the world. Surely a harsher fate could be imagined for one whose deeds were behind him than to have his hours, days and years slide soft away in this place of peace and quiet, with no cares and scarcely even nominal duties, and with the treasure house of the worlds wisdom open to his touch at any time. The reading room is open daily from eight in the morning till eight in the evening. The books are issued for two weeks, and may be renewed, or may be changed as often as desired. That the library is not unappreciated is indicated by the number of books drawn, which last year amounted to 46,592 volumes. The volumes are classified as fiction, history and biog- raphy, travels, science and art, poetry and drama, religion and philosophy, and general literature. I was inter- ested to know what class of books was most read, imagining thaL with a con- stituency of men only, and one would suppose hard-headed fellows too, his- tory or biography or travels would lead; but I was told that, as in most public libraries, fiction is in the lead. About seventy per cent of all books drawn are works of fiction. This is partly amusing, but on the whole pa- thetic. What should these old, broken-down warriors, stranded hulks, battered and broken by the sea of life,whose average age, accord- ing to Governor Thomas, is sixty- four years, what should they have to do with love and the sweet dreams of tender maidens? Do they thus seek to call back in faint outline the dim ghosts of the lost illusions of their youth, or do they use fiction as an anodyne for their futureless and un- hopeful condition? Interesting as the library is, not far from it is another building yet more interesting in some ways, from its sin- gular character and the problems which it presents, than even the li- brary. This is the true Valhalla of the veterans, haunted by the shade of many a departed warrior. The build- ing is the Beer Hall, a large building pleasantly surrounded by trees. The hall proper is somewhat over a hun- dred feet long and proportionally broad. No civilian can for love or money buy a glass of beer in the hall, THE BARRACKS AT THE KANSAS HOME. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. 297 nor may he even set his foot within it. Through the courtesy of Govern- or Thomas I was permitted to see everything within the hall that there is to see. Down the centre of the hall extends a double counter. On each side of the building, next to the wall, is a row of tables, extending the length of the room. As one stands at the door and gazes down the ~ long room, one is reminded of a huge fly-trap filled with blue- bottles. The blue- coats are so thick that there is scarcely room to walk, and the buzz of voices makes it difficult to con- verse. Every table is full, and be- tween them and the bar there is a constant progression and retrogres- sion of veterans with empty and freshly filled glasses. White aproned Ganymedes behind the bar dispense the nectar to the war gods. The am- brosia is in the form of black bread and cheese made into sandwiches, which are served free, as a lunch. There are eight bartenders, and they are kept constantly busy. Four guards preserve order. The hall is in charge of a special officer, who is re- sponsible to the governor for its proper administration. During the last year the receipts from the sales in the Beer Hall amounted to over $91,000. Nearly two million glasses were sold. This seems a large amount of beer for one institution; but it must be remem- bered that these six thousand mem- bers of the Home represent the voting population of a city of over twenty thousand inhabitants. The number of glasses sold in a year does not amount to one glass a day for each member. No insti- tution in the Sol- diers Home has received such bit- ter criticism as the Beer Hall, and probably there is none of which the wisdom is less to be questioned. Almost every objec- tion to it has been shown by facts to be groundless. Drunkenness among the members has decreased; there are fewer men arrested by civil authori- ties; there is a smaller number in the hospital as a result of protracted de- bauches on bad liquor; more money has been sent by the inmates to their families; and the order and discipline in the Home are much better. The beer sold is the best. No member buys his beer over the bar, but must purchase at the office a ticket, which he exchanges for his beer. In this way a check is kept upon the men. Restrictions are placed upon hun- dreds of the men, many of them being entirely debarred from the Beer Hall, and others being limited to one or two glasses a day, according to their iN THE GROUNDs, KANSAS. 298 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. them need careful watching and firm handling. The gov- ernment of the Home is a pure autocracy. The word of the govern- or is law. Every physical, mental or moral condition. morning at eight oclock a police A large number are contented with court is held, at which the governor what they get at the hall and do not presides and the offenders receive sen- drink outside at all. The profits ac- tences ranging fro.m a curtailment of cruing from the sales of beer within their beer to dishonorable discharge the Home go to the post fund, which from the Home. Thereis no appeal is used for the expenses of the band, from the sentence of the judge; but for amusements, for the purchase of the soldier, even if sentenced to im- books and for other matters not pro- prisonment, can always escape pun- vided for by Congressional legisla- ishment, for he ixiay at any time ob- tion. In his annual report for 1887, tam his discharge~ from the Home, the year following the opening of the either honorably or dishonorably; hall, Governor Patrick, himself a life- The dishonorably discharged member long prohibitionist, said: It is the can be reinstated only by the unani- opinion of every officer of this Home, mous concurrence of the board of whether prohibitionist or otherwise, managers. The largest number of that under existing circumstances the arrests last year was for drunkenness; Beer Hall has reduced vice, crime, the next highest numbet was for the debauchery, sickness and waste of not very heinous crime of jumping money that should go to the families fence; other charges were bringing of the members, in a marked degree. Among these six thousand soldiers from nearly every state in the Union there is a great va- riety of character. Many of the men are enfeebled not only physically, but mentally and mor- ally. There is less self-restraint among them than among younger men; con- sequently some of BARRACKS, CALIFORNIA HOME. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. 299 whiskey into camp, whi6h is punished with the severest penalty, disorderly, drunk and disorderly, disobedience of orders, neglect of duty, quarrelling in quarters, etc. Out of more than two thousand arrests, only one was for theft. Of the 7,141 members cared for last year 4,362, almost two-thirds, were of foreign birth. Out of the total num- ber, there were 326 who could neither read nor write; and of the illiterates only 3 per cent were Americans, and 97 per cent were foreign born. The occupations of the members are classified under 105 different head- ings; the range is from lawyers and ministers to chiropodists and ped- dlers, including five actors, one edi- tor, eight civil engineers, thirteen lawyers and seven ministers; over two thousand are classed as laborers, and 1,365 are farmers. About one- fifth of the members have wives or minor children. Over two thousand are employed in the Home in various capacities, with pay ranging from a few dollars a month to a respectable salary. Last year over $98,000 was paid to the members in wages. Members may usually spend as much or as little time in the Home as they please. When in residence they must show passes to leave the grounds, but they may be out for an indefinite time on furlough. In the laundry over two million and a half pieces are handled annually. There is a store where nearly every conceivable thing used by men is on sale, and the sales amount to ~4o,ooo annually. There is a hotel on the grounds, which does a thriving bus- iness. There are also an express of- fice and an office of the Western Union Telegraph Company. All the uniform clothing for the seven branches of the Home is manufac- tured here in the huge Property Building. This is a massive Ro- manesque building, over four hun- dred feet long. In this building are also located the bookbinding and printing establishments. There is on the grotinds a fire de- partment, with steamer, hook and ladder truck, hose cart and all the es- sentials of a metropolitan fire station. The Home has an independent sys- tem of waterworks, with a pumping capacity of 2,500,000 gallons a day. Not the least interesting feature is the system of tunnels under the main streets. These are nearly four miles in length, are constructed of brick, over six feet in the clear and wide THE GROUNDS, CALIFORNIA HOME. 300 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. LI~.t~IJ~ UL-~LS. I ~ IX I uN JJLtXIN IX r1~J~VIfl.. enough for three men to walk abreast. They are lighted by gas and contain over fifteen miles of steam and hot water pipes. A battery of thirty- eight boilers fur- nishes steam an]d hot water for the institution. The refrigerating and ice-making ma- chine has a ca- pacity for mak- ing twelve tons of ice every day and cooling fifty thousand cubic feet of cold-stor- age space. Out past the hospital buildings and past the flag staff, with its battery of cannon, which have long since ceased to vol- ley and thunder,disabled veterans HOSPITAL. like the other members,at the ex- treme northern limit of the grounds of this soldier city at Dayton, amid gently undulating slopes and be- neath whispering leaves, with a peaceful outlook over the broad valley, is another city, the city of the dead, Which contains more in- habitants than the city of the living. The cemetery is laid out in the form of a circle. In the centre, in the middle of a circular drive, stands the monument, a figure of the American soldier, musket in hand, at parade rest, carved in granite and mounted on a Corinthian column that once formed part of the colonnade BARRACKS. of the old United States Bank at Philadelphia. It stands on a pedes- tal having an allegorical figure in Parian marble at each corner, repre- senting the different branches of the service. Sloping in gentle de- clivity from this monument to a wide circular drive far beneath, the greensward is dotted by nearly seven thousand white marble head- stones, which mark the last resting- place of as many soldiers. The members of the Ho.me are carried off at a rate which averages more than one a day. Three members of the Home can sing no more cheerful lay than A pickaxe and a spade, a spade ; for three grave dig- gers are kept constantly employed. THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. ~5OI There are also eight undertakers. When a member dies the flag is displayed at half mast during his fu- neral, and he is buried with military honors. Soldier, rest, thy warfare oer; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battle fields no more. This meagre account of the Cen- tral Branch of the National Home, if somewhat monotonously statistical, may nevertheless serve to indicate in a measure how completely and with what attention to detail the nation is caring for its disabled defenders. What has been said of the Central Branch may be said in general of the other branches. The Central Home was chosen for description because it is the largesthaving over twice as many members as any other branch and in a sense a kind of administra- tive centre, because here the clothing of all the other branches is manufac- tured, and the board of managers has recommended that this branch be made a depot for the storage of sup- plies for the other branches, to be is- sued to them on quarterly requisi- tions. Each of the other branches, however, though none of them so large as the Central Branch, has ade- quate appointments for the comfort, care and entertainment of its inmates. The Central, the Northwestern, the Southern and the Eastern branches were all opened under one act of Con- gress, which was approved in March, i866. The Eastern Branch, at To- gus, Maine, was the first to be ready, and received its first inmates in the same year that the act was passed. The Eastern Branch has never been one of the largest, but it is an impor- tant branch of the Home. Its grounds co.mprise over seventeen hundred acres, or over twice the num- ber possessed by any other branch, while its buildings have cost nearly half a million dollars. It stands fifth in the number of inmates. It has a library of over 8,ooo volumes. Since it was opened it has cared for over 13,000 veterans, while it has at pres- ent enrolled over 2,400 inmates, with an average, number present of over 1,900. The governor of the Eastern Branch is Colonel Luther Stephen- son. The Southern Branch, situated near Hampton, Virginia, which re- ceived its first inmates in 1870, is, after the Central Branch, the largest in point of numbers, having at present enrolled over 4,500 inmates, with an average attendance of over 3,000. Territorially it is much the smallest of any of the branches, occupying only twenty-six acres, but its build- ings have cost over $8oo,ooo. Dur- ing the year 1896 two barracks were constructed at a cost of $25,000. In the Southern Branch, Mason and Dixons line becomes apparent; for, from the last report of the governor, Colonel P. T. Woodfin, it appears that of the whole number of 5,076 members cared for in this branch dur- ing the last year, only i x6 enlisted from the state of Virginia. The Northwestern Branch, which occupies 382 acres near Milwaukee, was the third of the four branches provided for by the original act of Congress. It has always been a very important branch, ranking third in the number of inmates. Its governor is Colonel Cornelius Wheeler. Its buildings have cost over $6oo,ooo, the last being a commodious headquar- ters buildings recently completed at a cost of $io,ooo. This branch, since it was opened in I867, has cared for over i6,ooo soldiers. It has at pres- ent on its rolls over 2,600 inmates. These four branches, the Central, the Eastern, the Southern and the Northwestern, accommodated the disabled veterans of the war for nearly twenty years, when the need of another branch began to be felt. Accordingly an act of Congress was passed and approved July 5, 1884, to authorize the location of a Brasi~h Home for Disabled Volunteer Sol- diers and Sailors, in either the state of Arkansas, Colorado, Kansas, Iowa4 302 THE NATIONAL SOLDIERS HOME. Minnesota, Missouri or Nebraska. The site chosen for the new branch was at Leavenworth, Kansas. The Western Branch was opened for use September i, 1885. The land for this branch, 640 acres, was donated, and buildings to the value of over half a million dollars have been erected. The grounds of the Western Branch form a pleasure ground and park for the city of Leavenworth, and are daily visited by hundreds of people. Colonel Andrew J. Smith is the governor of the Western Branch. Santa Monica in Southern Califor- nia has been called the Coney Island of the Pacific Coast. Here the Pa- cific Branch was established, on do- nated land, under an act of Congress approved March 2, 1887, entitled An act to provide for the location and erection of a Branch Home for Dis- abled Volunteer Soldiers west of the Rocky Mountains. This branch was opened for use on the first day of Jan- uary, i888. The buildings of the Pacific Branch have cost nearly $5oo,- ooo. The grounds of the Pacific Branch are very beautiful, adorned as they are with plants, shrubs and trees to which the harsher climate of the East is not favorable. The aver- age number of inmates present in the Pacific Branch for 1897 was 1,557. They are under the care and direction of Colonel J. G. Rowland. The last branch established is the Marion Branch, at Marion, Indiana. This branch was authorized by an act of Congress approved July 23, i888. It was opened March i8, 1890. Its land and buildings have cost a little over half a million dollars. This branch has a number of handsome modern buildings, including the fine Stinson Memorial Hall and a new mess hail which will accommodate at one sit- ting 1,072 members, comfortably seated in chairs. Last year the whole number cared for at the Marion Branch was 2,530, with an average at- tendance of 1,563. The governor of the Marion Branch is Captain Justin H. Chapman. These seven branches at present constitute the National Home for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers. The best testimony to the wise and liberal management of the Home is the crowded condition of all the branches. Some of the branches are so full that members are compelled to sleep on the floor, and several branches have been compelled temporarily to refuse admittance to new members. Twenty- six thousand men would not volun- tarily remain in residence in these branches if they were not well treated. As the veterans grow older their infirmities increase faster, and the Home is likely to increase rapidly in membership for an indefinite number of years. Provision has already been made for an eighth branch. The act authorizing this new branch became a law June 4, 1897. $150,000 was ap- propriated for the establishment and construction of the new branch. Dan- ville, Illinois, was chosen for its site. The board of managers purchased 222 acres of ground and at once began the erection of four new buildings. This new branch will soon be avail- able for occupation. Besides the National Home for Volunteer Soldiers, there are twenty- six State Homes, in twenty-five states. To each of these State Homes the board of managers of the National Home pays $ioo per year for each inmate, less one-half the sum retained by each state from the pen- sions of the men toward their partial support. Last year these twenty-six State Homes had over ten thousand members on their rolls, with an aver- age attendance of over eight thou- sand. For the year ending June 30, 1897, the sum of $765,657 was paid to the State Homes by the board of managers of the National Home. The State Homes are under the in- spection of the board of managers of the National Home, and their num- bers are increasing rapidly. In the National Home in all the. branches there are at present survi- vors from three wars, there being SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. 303 besides the veterans of the civil war, 471 veterans of the Mexican war and 15 from the Indian wars. These men have every comfort, and are on the whole much better off than the aver- age workman in civil life. Wise provision is made for their entertain- ment and amusement. The restraints are few and reasonable, being only such as are necessary for a body of over twenty-six thousand men of every shade of character. Indeed one might almost say that Uncle Sam has, with few limitations, adopted for the inmates of this institution the rule pro- posed by Gargautna for the Abbey of Theleme: Do what,thou wilt. Doubtless the ravages of fever and disease in the recent volunteer army will have served to prepare many a future candidate for the Soldiers Home; and no one of them, should the coming years find him homeless or friendless or disabled, ought to look forward with apprehension to spending there his remaining years. He will find not a stern kind of jus- tice as chilling as the touch of steel, but rather the loving and tender min- istrations of a mother to a dutiful son. THE ORIGINAL SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. (From the Plumer Papers.) O NEof New Hampshires remarkable men, in the half century follow- ing the Revolution, was William Plumer of Epping. He was born in Newbury, Massachusetts, in 1759, and died at Epping, New Hampshire, De- cember 22, i8~o. Being too young to take much part in the active service of the Revolution, and early interested in re- ligion, he became a preacher in his youth; but at the age of twenty-five he began to study law. His father, being averse to that profession for his grave and sagacious son, bought him a farm in Epping and per- suaded him for a time to relinquish the law. But in ~ having been chosen to the New Hampshire legislature from Ep- ping, and being thus brought into contact with the lawyers and other leading men of the new state, his desire to practise law revived and he persuaded his father to con- sent to his renewal of the study upon which his heart was set. He then entered the office of Mr. Prentice at Londonderry, a few miles from Epping, and in 1787, after several adventures,one of which was the assisting of General Sullivan in 1786 to put down an insurrection of debt- ors and returned Revolutionary soldiers in Rockingham countyhe was admitted to the bar in that county. His contem- porary, Jeremiah Smith of Pete,rborough and Exeter, afterwards the particular friend of Webster and Mason, wrote to Plumer, October 31, 1787, encouraging him to pursue the profession in which both became eminent, and giving him some ac- count of his own experiences. Smith had graduated from Rutgers College in 1780, after serving as a soldier under Stark in the Bennington campaign; in the letter cited he thus relates what next happened: I spent a year after I left college un- determined which way to shape my course. At length I resolved on the study of the law; and having the offer of my board and a good library to serve as private in- structor in a gentlemans family at Barn- stable (that of Brigadier Otis, brother of James Otis), I embraced it, and spent a year there, reading under the direction of Mr. Bourne. I perused the books usually read on the Law of Nature and of Na- tions, and Montesquieu, Beccaria, and Blackstones Commentaries, with some de- gree of attention; constantly attending the courts, and seeing what practice was to be seen. The next year I spent as assistant preceptor in the Academy at Andover. Upon quitting this I entered Mr. W. Pynchons office at Salem. During a con- siderable part of the time I remained there which was more than a year, I attended (taught in) a school for misses and young 304 SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. ladies, a few hours in the day. The rest of my time I spent in reading, and in the business of the office. I had, when I left Salem, a certificate from Mr. Pynchon of these facts, and an opinion that I was qualified for the office of an attorney. This, with his letter to Mr. (Joshua) Atherton, of Amhert, N. H., was laid be- fore the sapient bar of Hillsborough county. I had the mortification to hear for answer that their Wisdoms were not fully satisfied, and that I must dance at- tendance awhile longer. This I had to be~r,as if the humiliating circumstance of having been obliged to ask for admis- sion into such a brotherhood were not enough in all conscience. Tis devilish provoking to be denied admittance into bad company. I was sensible that I was not so well qualified as I ought and would have been glad to have been; but my age, circumstances, and especially the character and pretensions of those already admitted, determined me to waive all ceremony and apply directly to the Court, which I did at the adjournment, and was admitted by their unanimous vote. This bold stroke gave great umbrage, as you may have heard. Not many years later, Smith was sent to Congress, and afterwards became gov- ernor and chief justice of New Hamp- shire; while Plumer was four times chosen governor, and went to the United States Senate for six years. But long before this distinction awaited him, he had satisfied his curiosity about the Shakers, then a new sect in America. Times have changed, and Plumers account of the followers of Anne Lee will appear exaggerated to those who only know the modern Shakers. It is im- portant, however, and all the more so be- cause it represents the sect as organized thoroughly in New England at a time when the customary accounts do not show us communities in full operation at Har- vard, the two Enfields, and Canterbury, New Hampshire, till after 1790; yet here we have Plumers detailed statement as to numbers and the character of the ritual, in 1782-83. Anne Lee died at Watervliet, New York, in 1784; so that even before her death she saw her communities of be- lievers established in three American states and probably four. Plumers description of the Shakers is found in letters to Miss Lydia Coombs of Newburyport, from June, 1782, to March, 1783.F. B. Sanborn. THE SHAKERS AT hARVARD, MASSA- CHUSETTS. (June i7, 1782.) Last week I paid the Shakers a visit at Harvard. I was received with civility and treated with kindness. I did not contradict them, but candidly and moderately inquired of them their origin and progress, their tenets and practice. This in- formation was from their Elders and principal members. They say that in the year 1774 two women and three or four men, living at Manchester, in England, by an immediate and super- natural vision were directed to come to this country. They arrived at New York, but took up their residence in a country town (Watervliet), not far distant from Albany. One of these women, Anne Lee (Plumer calls her Lease), is the famous matron known as The Elect Lady. She is generally attended by a number of her Elders. The select company that at- tends her are emphatically called The Church. She frequently removes from town to town, and constantly sends forth laborers, as she calls them, to preach and teach her re- ligion to the world. In some towns mobs have abused and insulted them; this they call persecution, and a proof of their being the true followers of that religion which is not of this world. Their love and tenderness for each other degenerate into fondness and ridiculous weakness. They are very kind and attentive to strangers, so long as they have any prospect of converting them to their faith; but as soon as a man contradicts, or asks questions hard to answer, they become sullen, pronounce him damned, and avoid his company. Like the ancient Church, they consist principally of the lower class of peo- ple; few wise or learned men belong to their sect. They were formerly of different sects, but chiefly of those called New Lights; many of them were Baptists. They appeared very sober, serious, grave and solemn; honest and sincere in their profes- sion; and in general much acquainted with the Scriptures. Before and after their eating, going to and returning from their beds, each of them falls on his knees, shaking, trembling. 305 SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. groaning, praying and praising. They affirm that they have the spirit of discerning and gift of proph- ecy, and have in fact predicted many things, with their contingent circum- stances, long before these happened. Their dress is simple, plain and un- adorned. The men have their hair short, and the women and children all wear strapped close caps. They say that Christ promised to give his Church in all ages the power of working miracles; and that in fact they have healed the sick, cured crip- ples, and restored speech to the dumb. These mighty works were instanta- neously effected by their praying and anointing the diseased with oil in the name of the Lord,the patients hav- ing faith in God. On my expressing a desire to be present on such occa- sion, one of their Elders very sternly replied, An evil and adulterous gen- eration seeketh after a sign; but no sign shall be given unto you. They generally assemble every evening, and frequently continue their exercises till after midnight. I went with them one evening to their meet- ing, and though they had cautioned me against being surprised at their worship, yet their conduct was so wild and extravagant that it was so.me time before I could believe my own senses. About thirty of them assembled in a large room in a private house,the women in one end and the men in the other,for dancing. Some were past sixty years old. Some had their eyes steadily fixed upward, continually reaching out and drawing in their arms and lifting up first one foot, then the other, about four inches from the floor. Near the centre of the room stood two young women, one of them very handsome, who whirled round and round for the space of fifteen minutes, nearly as fast as the rim of a spinning-wheel in quick motion. The violent whirl produced so much wind as kept her clothes as round and straight as though fastened to a hoop. As soon as she left whirling she en- tered the dance, and danced grace- fully. Sometimes one would pro- nounce with a loud voice, Ho, ho, or Love, love,and then the whole assembly vehemently clapped hands for a minute or two. At other times some were shaking and trem- bling, other singing words out of the Psalms in whining, canting tones (but not in rhyme), while others were speaking in what they called the un- known tongue,to me an unintel- ligible jargon, mere gibberish and per- fect nonsense. At other times the whole assembly would shout as with one voice, with one accord. This ex- ercise continued about an hour; then they all retired to the sides of the room for a few minutes. Then the young lady who was the principal whirler walked into the middle of the room and began to dance. All the men and women soon joined her, dancing, singing, whirling, shout- ing, clapping their hands, shaking and trembling, as at first. This con- tinued near an hour. After a second intermission, two of the Elders, one after the other, ad- dressed the audience; one of them de- livering a very ingenious discourse in defence of their tenets and worship, with an exhortation to persevere in the ways of the Lord. He was a man of strong, clear, distinguishing mind, and an easy, yet impressive speaker. More than half his discourse was in the strong, persuasive language of Scripture, well adapted to his pur- pose. Then the assembly renewed their former exercises for more than an hour. This done, several of the young people, both men and women, began to shake and tremble in a most terrible manner. The first I per- ceived was their heads moving slowly from one shoulder to the other,the longer they moved the quicker and more violently they shook. The mo- tion proceeded from the head to the hands, arms and whole body, with such power as if limb would rend from limb. The house trembled as if there were an earthquake. After this several young women embraced 306 SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. and saluted each other; two men em- braced and saluted each other; a third clasped his arms around both, a fourth around them, and so on, until a dozen men were in that position, embracing and saluting. I did not observe any man salute or embrace a woman, or any woman a man; but as I was going to the meeting I had ob- served a man and woman meet, when the woman with much eagerness clasped and kissed the mans hand and arm and used the language of a fond lover. After meeting was done, I was in- vited by the Elders to take lodging at their house, which I did. After a good supper they entered into a long scriptural defence of their tenets and practices, resting their religion solely on the authority of Scripture and tes- timony of the Spirit. They admitted they could not support it by the rea- son and nature of things. This con- versation ended, the young woman who had whirled the most began to shake and tremble astonishingly. She told me this was not a voluntary mo- tion, but that she was acted upon by a supernatural impulse. I asked whether a man could, by his strength, prevent her shaking and whirling. She said it would be blasphemy against God to attempt such a thing. Some time after this, when she was whirling with great velocity, I rose and advanced gradually towards her, clasped her in my arms, and in the course of a moment held her still, though she exclaimed against me as very rude and indecent. [Young Plumer was indeed open to this chargeas was a great-uncle of mine who at Canterbury, a few years later, with other young men, undertook to stop the dervish-dance by holding the young women. The Elders came to the rescue, and strove to put Uncle John out of the room; but he, being of great size and strength, caught by the beams of the room and could not be moved either by the Spirit or by bodily efforts. They there- fore gave him up as a big, lustful devil, and returned to their singular worship. The next winter (February, 1783) Plumer visited these Canterbury Shakers, some twenty miles from Epping, and again gave Miss Coombs his discoveries concerning them.F. B. S.] THE NEW HAMPSHIRE SHAKERS. (February i~, 1783.) I have lately paid a visit to the Shakers who reside in New Hampshire. They declare that the woman whom they call the Elect Lady (Anne Lee) is the same person St. John saw clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars; that she has in fact fled to the wilderness and been nourished there for a time, and times, and half a time. This wilderness was a place near Al- bany (Watervliet), where she tarried with h& adherents, then few in num- ber, till the times were accomplished, which was on that memorable Dark Day, May i~, I 780,that darkness being to her the signal from heaven to send forth her Elders to preach the everlasting Gospel to them who dwell on the earth. They say their number in America is now near 7,000, and that in three years their religion will universally prevail throughout North America and Great Britain; and then great desolation will over- whelm both nations. Numbers of them are so confident of this that they offered to give absolute deeds of their lands and houses for the same sums as for a three years lease. In a short time, they assert, preachers will be sent from Britain and America into all narts of the earth, and in ten years their religion will prevail with all nations. Dr. Cooley, one of the Elders, assured me it was revealed to him by the Holy Ghost that he must soon travel through France, Spain and Germany, to preach the Gospel to those nations, and that in Spain he should be beheaded for his testimony. He also told me this sect has been in England for thirty-five years (since 1748), and that, though persecuted by the British govern- ment, they are numerous there. From my reading and researches I am convinced that the doctors rela- tion is not true. SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. 307 [In fact, Anne Lee, after marrying Abraham Stanley, a blacksmith, much against her conscience, as she says, did first, in 1758, join the Wardleys, heretical Quakers, at Manchester, and, after nin9. years of spiritual struggles, found herself to be the second appearance of Christ on earth (as she declared), and was for this blasphemy imprisoned at Manchester in i~o. Ten years later, before peace was established between England and America, she sailed for New York in the ship Maria. She died at Watervliet, September 8, 1784.F. B. S.] These Elders preach up the ex- ploded doctrine of having all things in common, and bringing the money to their feet, as successors of the apos- tles (Acts V. 2). Several persons who had valuable farms have sold them and given the money to support the common cause. The Elders dis- pose of the people at the different houses; they are then constantly em- ployed in labor by the heads of houses, who are treated and rever- enced as fathers. The common class receive only their food and clothing; the Elders do no labor, nor take any care to provide for their subsistence; they live freely, travelling from place to place. At Ashfield (?) (perhaps En- field, Connecticut), where the church now is, they constantly maintain from fifty to three hundred people. Their c~hurch consists of seven or eight persons only; no person can be a member of it till he is perfectly free from all sin and impurity; that these are more pure than angels, and can never sin; for whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him, and he cannot sin because he is born of God (I. John iii. 9). Their bodies are thus wholly pure, no seeds of death remain in them, and they will never be sub- ject to death, unless to violent death from the hands of wicked men, as Christ was. If the wicked should not be permitted to destroy them Within ten years, the church now militant will then be the church triumphant; and their bodies will then be so changed as that death will have no power over them; nor will they need food or raiment. They say that those who are of their society, but siot of the Church, are under the operation of the divine Spirit, begotten, but not horn again. Some of these are free from sin, but have not sufficiently re- pented of past transgression; in due time, if they continue obedient, they will be made free. The society believes the church to be infallible, perfect as God is per- fect (Mat. v. 48). Hence they rever- ence the orders of the church as the commands of God. They believe what they are told, and practise what they are bidden, without murmuring or disputing. They believe that the church knows as God knows, and is perfectly well acquainted with the hearts and thoughts of all men; that their Elders communicate instruction and reproof, though absent from them, and that without the aid of let- ters. Though absent in body, they are present in spirit. They really worship the Elect Lady. Their zeal in making proselytes is great; they address themselves to the spectators with singular assurance, threatening eternal vengeance to those who dis- believe, and promising heaven to the obedient. If the hearer is uneasy on account of past conduct, or troubled with apprehensions of a gloomy fu- turity, they are almdst certain of his conversion. Their confidence silences his doubts, and satisfies him they are of God. But if he still hesitates, they assure him that there is no delusion in confessing and forsaking sin; that they themselves first took the leap in the dark, resigned their reason and understanding to God, and, with St. Paul, became fools that they might become wise. If the hearer is induced to give up his reason, relinquish his own judg- ment, and implicitly receive their or- ders, the Elders will then instruct him as far as they think prudent in their mysteries, and enjoin him to lead a holy life,.particularly not to have any commerce with the other sex, which they assure him is the greatest 308 SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. of all sins. If he is docile and sub- missive, he will progress in the knowledge of the divine mysteries, and be happy here and forever; but if he is rebellious, they tell him he will forever suffer the vengeance of an in- censed God. They studiously avoid reasoning on the subject of religion, calling it disputing with corrupt minds that are reprobate concerning the faith. They will freely answer questions, if they think their answers will convince; but if a difficult ques- tion is propounded, they will say, We have no gift of God to answer thee, or Thou art full of vain philosophy, and The world by wisdom knows not God. Their confidence frequently degenerates into audacious impu- dence; hence, if a mans arguments are unanswerable, they will without ceremony call him a liar.~ These Elders profess to be di- rected by immediate signs and im- pressions from God. A principal sign is the having of one hand drawn out straight, which they affirm is done by Gods power, not their own. They follow the hand till they come to some place at which they think they have something to do, and then act accord- ing to the impressions they feel. I saw one of them whose arm was stretched out go with his hand shut, without anything in it, to a woman; he opened his hand into hers, which he told her to shut up, saying, Receive this gift from God. He was asked what he had given; he answered, The Holy Ghost. They require their people to be in- dustrious. One man who had been very indolent was often admonished, but to little effect. An Elders arm was stretched, it directed him to a hoe and to a stump; he dug up some ants, put them in a box and carried them to the lazy man, saying, Go to the ant, thou sluggard! consider her ways and be wise. They have little or no connection with their neighbors not of their own sect. Esteeming themselves as the only pure and holy people, they are censorious and un social with all others. Thus, though many of them have renounced par- ticular vices, yet they have received other unclean spirits worse than the first, viz., idolatry, unsociableness and eunuchism. Like all enthusiasts, they lay great stress on trifles; with them it is of im- portance that their mens hair is short. Chauncey, an eminent Elder, told me that if I was guilty of no other sin but wearing long hair, it would damn me to endless misery. The commands and authority of the church extend to all their actions, and are received as ex- pressing the laws of God. The women and children are under the most abject submission to the master of the house where they live; the la- borers and men to the tutors and Elders; .and those to the church. A woman cannot give away a meals victuals to a friend or relative without the express permission of the gov- ernor of the house,even though he is her husband. Nor can a man or maid, servant or child, go to bed with- out his license first had. The women are obliged to be neat and cleanly in their houses, dress and food. They say the Roman Catholic re- ligion is preferable to the Protest~tnt, and next to their own the best in the world. I have this month visited them at their meetings in London, Canterbury and Enfield. At London I spent the Sunday. An Elder preached twice that day. They all fell on their knees several times and prayed; their groanings and sighings resembled the murmuring of many waters. At last several of them prayed aloud, one by one. Then they spoke in their unknown language, danced, whirled, sung, shouted, clapped hands and stamped on the floor with great vehemence. Sev- eral ran with great violence from one room to another, striking against the wall as if they would break it down. One young man so running struck his nose against the side of the room, and caused it to bleed freely; after which the poor fellow scarcely moved. SHAKER COMMUNITIES IN NEW ENGLAND. 309 After meeting, nttmbers of them went into the fields and ran two or three hundred rods, backward and forward, as fast as they could, for half an hour. Some of them at the same time whirled round and round without ces- sation. When they first began this exercise several of them became dizzy, fell down and vomited; this, they said, was putting off the old man and his deeds. All these things they say are done in obedience to God, and that it is impossible for them to be deceived. At this meet- ing there was a man who was opposed to them; but his wife was a great zealot. After meeting he observed that marriage and propagation were both lawful and expedient. Num- bers soon gathered round him; one young woman cried out, Oh, that cursed lust! I am ashamed of it. Their noise was loud, resembling that of geese and bulls, with a violent stamping on the floor; many repeat- ing with a strong voice, Damn his devil, damn his devil! This con- tinued for some minutes. At Canterbury I attended one of their meetings, with the same antics as at Loudon. After this, some fell on their knees and the rest on their faces, and for fifteen minutes cried, wept and howled like a man bereft of an only son. This done, they per- formed their other exercises, and ran from room to room, staving through the doors like madmen. On a sudden they all burst out laughing with great vehemence, and so continued for about five minutes. Dancing suc- ceeded this laughter. Weary of stand- ing, I walked into an adjoining room and sat down. Soon a young, active girl came whirling after me; and I am confident she ran round me more than one hundred times, praying, singing, whining, crying, pointing and hissing, with her tongue out of her mouth.. At this time men were saluting men. and women saluting women; indeed, there was no noise or motion but what you might hear or see. Ludi- crous as it was, it was performed in a solemn manner. At lEnfield the exercises were sim- ilar to those at Loudon. These people use every method to stifle the voice of nature and prevent rational inquiry. They hurry their proselytes from one kind of exercise to another, animat- ing their minds, and inflaming their passions to such a degree as to pre- dude all sober investigation. They labor by day, dance half the night, and frequently sleep on the floor by the side of their beds. They say that these exercises have a powerful tendency to prevent intercourse of the sexes. They declare that they see, hear, con- verse and are familiar with angels. When one has doubts of the truth of their religion, all unite in a most peremptory manner to defend their creed, and denounce the wrath of God against him. If this does not reclaim him, the Elder to whom he confessed his sins tells him that he has been guilty of other sins, not confessed, otherwise his former sins would not rise up in judgment against him. Unless he now confesses them all, and cordially returns to the discipline of the church, he is told that all the sins he has confessed shall be made pub- lic. [It is evident that the practices and en- thusiasm of the New Hampshire Shakers have changed much since Plumer visited their colonies,which also are much re- duced in the number of residents. For a time they increased and, like all religions, thrived upon the abhorrence and persecu- tion they aroused. But even in Haw- thornes time the Canterbury Shakers had become much more quiet and reasonable, making few proselytes, and conducting themselves like good citizensF. B. S.] THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. By Annie E. P. Searing. AXES mounting up every year, the streets in disrepair, the schools behind the times, and three breaks in the new water main inside of two weeks! Everywhere you look in Wiltwyck you see misrule and extravagance ! Miss Susan Suydam paused to take breath, and Dominie Van Loo, large and placid and sleek in the armchair he had carefully selected, had an ag- grieved air. This was to have been a kindly pastoral call. It began to seem more like a lecture. And what are the men doingthe men who pay the taxes and represent the better classes? I spoke to my cousin Bogardus the other day, and he laughed in my face for my pains said politics was a dirty business for gentlemen to soil their fingers with! So you descendants of the old families sit by and do nothing, while a foreign rabble comes in to waste the savings of our ancestors. Its enough to dis- gust a woman with modern citizen- ship ! Why dont you take a hand at it yourself, Susan? Its getting to be the fashion. The Dominie spoke with intentional malice, for Miss Susans stern conservatism was well known. She had not lived a half cen- tury in the home of her forefathers without impressing most of her preju- dices upon the community. Why dont I put on pants and a high hat? was the scornful rejoinder. I wish youd ask less facetious ques- tions, and do some preaching on the subject. But you wont; youll sit and deplore and do nothing, like the rest. Dear me, dear me, protested the Dominie; I do what I can, what any 310 clergyman can; I try to influence men to better idealsbetter ideals, you know ; and as Miss Susan rose to her majestic height and rung for tea, he felt the tension relaxed by the di- version. He reflected as she walked how much better the despised gar- ment she alluded to would have be- come her masculine figure than did petticoats. Nature must have origi- nally designed her for a man, strong, dominating, aggressive, but by one of her freaks she had encased an essen- tially virile heart and mind in a womans body. Miss Susan seemed to have accumulated in her person all the vigor and manly force of a long line of Dutch ancestors and, as an accompanying inheritance, an intense conservatism, that wrapped itself in the strength of her character as in a cloak. She dominated every one with whom she came into relation; she managed her own affairs and those of her invalid sister; she brought up her little niece and ruled her servants like an autocrat; but she believed as strongly as any Jacobite ever believed in the divine right of kings, that man and man alone was made to govern in Church and State and family. It was the disappoint- ment of her life that her brothers girl was not a boy. Gladly would she have knelt at the shrine of a male relative, gladly have abdicated in time to him,so she thought. The Dominie went and sat by Miss Marys chair, where he breathed more freely. People always felt comfort- able in her vicinity. She never made demands. Miss Susan made you feel that she expected great things of you: Miss Mary took you as you were and smiled. It is hard for Sister to bear,she spoke in a propitiating tone, as she THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. 3 often did. The street was torn up three times during the autumn, so that the carriage couldnt get out of our avenue. Of course it did not matter to me, as I never go out; but it naturally annoyed Sister. Miss Susan rearranged the tray of delicate old china, while the butler stood at attention company front to receive the cup when she had done pouring out of the silver pot, grum- bled over some observations to her- self, and, when she had finished, leaned back in her chair and deliv- ered an ultimatum. The Dominie, stirring in his sugar, and Miss Mary, delicately sipping, thought she had suddenly gone crazy, but my broth- ers little girl, on her low seat against the chimney jamb, received the an- nouncement with a glad jump of the heart. I have made up my mind, an- nounced Miss Susan firmly, to bring up a citizen myself. I shall take a boy from somewhere and train him up to represent this household as a voter; and Ill see that he votes for the right things. Adopt another child ! exclaimed Miss Mary faintly. Well, I didnt say adopt; I said, train up,which I take to mean edu- cate and provide for. The Dominie interposed a first diffi- culty: Where would she propose to find the boy? But that was easily brushed away. Boys were plenty, and free education beyond a certain point not going begging. For that matter you can find the boy, Dominie, a boy that would be suited to such a career. The career would be to represent you as a citizen? Miss Susan was not to be daunted by a little irony. Precisely,and I guess hed find in it a good deal of happiness. Anyway, hed be useful, and maybe he isnt so very, where he is. Like many another resolution, this scheme of Miss Susans had long lain inchoate in her brain, until discussion and opposition suddenly propelled it full blown into life. Somewhat to hc~r own surprise she found herself armed with answers to every objection and plans for surmounting each difficulty that was presented. She made it all seem so plausible and simple that Miss Mary at last succumbed and joined her side. The boy, who would be a nice boy, and creditable, of course, would live with them and go to school. In the fulness of time they would send him to college and give him a professionthe law. Then he would come home and set up in bus- iness as the ideal citizen. He would go to the primaries, for he would have read Fiske and got himself well im- bued with the duties of man to the State. He would run for alderman: in short, he would enter active poli- tics from a high plane. If he ulti- mately got into Congress or the presi- dential chair they could hardly find fault, though they would hope that he v%Tould wish to devote his activities to the regeneration of Wiltwyck. The child in the chimney corner shut her writing pad into her book and laid it down on the hearth, aban- doning herself, as she hugged her knees, to the delights of that dream of future companionship. The shadowy presence might be a citizen to her aunt; to her it was a boy. It was to be somebody to company with on equal terms in a household of elderly people. He might go to Congress or sit on juries, if he pleased, when he grew up; but while he wore short trousers he would presumably take a natural interest in such things as kites and bicycles and lawn tennis. Bliss- ful thoughthe might be able to help her over the hard spots in the detested C~esar; and one never knows what heights a boy may reach to explain those mystic examples where daily labor got itself into terms of sheep, and imaginary canals of improbable size went wandering over the face of the globe to make little girls wretched. It was not long after that, that Dominie Van Loo happened on the 312 THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. very boy seemingly designed by Providence as a base on which Miss Susan might build her fabric of citi- zenship. lie was the orphaned child of a Methodist minister, and lived with an uncle on a farm about six miles out of town. Nobody wanted him very much where he was, and the Suydams were quite welcome to him. He was fifteen, and well along in his studies at the academy, walking in and out daily. So Towns came. His quiet en- trance ~made less change in the house- hold than might have been expected. He stepped in in an unnoticed way quite characteristic of him. One day he wasnt there, and the next day he was, and that was about all there was to it. His gentle, studious ways, his good manners and neatness endeared him at once to the aunts; and as Miss Susan looked him over the first few days, taking account of his sturdy health and manly figure, his thought- ful face and general earnestness, she said decidedly that he would do. Lucy was not at first so certain that he filled her more youthful require- ments. He no longer wore short trousers, and the accompanying inter- est in boyish sports seemed lacking. But there proved to be no knot that Qesar could tie but what Towns could sever, and the most impossible stints the arithmetic could set he did by divination. This girl had but twelve years experience of life, and yet in her childish way she estimated the boy more shrewdly than her elders. She conceded his mathemati- cal superiority with an admiring sigh some people were born that way; but she measured his capacities early in their acquaintance and dominated him accordingly. He had a slow, faithful mind, and he climbed the lad- der of learning round after round by laborious mental processes, gaining at each step a sure footing. She made sudden birdlike ascents, now and then skipping a step and again paus- ing over long. He had firm resistive elements and those qualities that make men of a negative integrity. She was constructive, aggressive, having that rarer strength that hews out the path and casts up a highway the quality that makes a leader. These were the factors in the game of life that Miss Susan in her blind goodness had set herself to play. These were the contributions of mind and heart that nature had collected from various ancestors and dumped into the respective laps of her two children. Miss Susan set herself to moulding a man of affairs, of action, of expedients, an ideal politician; and the clay she took to model with was the product of generations of phleg- matic, unperceptive, farming people, of isolated lives, who were apatheti- cally religious, unreflectively honor- able, insensitively faithful. Old mother Nature, looking on, held her sides, for she has a sense of humor. Meanwhile there was always Lucy, overlooked as not being a factor in the great prob- lem, since she was a mere female. Through the long winter evenings Miss Susan faithfully worked to carry out her programme; and if poor Towns wearied a little, under the con- stant administration of history and civics in various forms and dilutions, he made no sign, but received his por- tion in patience, after his other lessons were done. He listened, as he did everything else, faithfully, honestly, but without enthusiasm or comment. The mention of Lexington or Mobile Bay awoke no thrill in him, and the early struggles out of which the Con- stitution emerged and the nation was born, the persuasive periods of Ham- ilton and the eloquence of Patrick Henry, left him unmoved by any emo- tion other than a problem iA geome- try or the mastery of a Greek verb would have produced. Not so with Lucy, listening unin- vited, but unhindered. Her blue eyes would flash responsive where she sat absorbed. These were great deeds of great men, and she felt herself a part of it all. Had she not made that gallant rush up Bunker Hill with her THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. 313 fighting ancestor ?the old flintlock in the hall bore silent witness. Had she not a part in Mobile Bay?there hung the old portrait in officers uni- form to testify. A fine stern old face. indeed! Had she not taken a hand in that early forming of the State? The childs nose and chin held a faithful copy of the lines of contour of the old engraving of her forefather hanging in the old Senate House. In every bone and fibre and brain cell was she made up, as was her Aunt Susan, of those early builders and defenders of the country. Her whole race ten- dency made lines of impulse on which her intellectual activity would move with least resistance. Oh, its such a splendid country! she cried once when the reading was finished. Id like to do something to help it alongfight for itwould- nt you, Towns?or help rule it! Miss Susan smiled indulgently. Women were not made to fight, Lucy, or to rule. God never meant them to behave like men,and gov- erning and making war are mens work. Didnt the women of the Revolu- tion have to tend to town meetings while the men were off fighting? Certainly not, said Miss Susan proudly. The women of the Revo- lution knew their sphere and never tried to get out of it. Women belong in the home, Lucy,never forget that. There was our great-great-grand- mother, said the child reflecting, the county clerks wife, you know, Aunty, and she harnessed her horses and bundled all the public papers and her children into the wagon and let her house burn while she fled to Hur- ley. That was when the British burned Wiltwyck, and the men had gone to war. She had to act like a man, you know, because her slaves all ran away.~~ Of course there are exceptional times, child, allowed Miss Susan. And then women have governed, Aunty. There was Elizabeth and Mary and Victoria, and Queen Isa- bella, andand a lot of others I cant think of now went to war and led armies, you know. But Miss Susans dismissal was prompt and final. Little girls cant understand these things; and its high time you were in bed. Queen Isabella and a lot of others remained unaccounted for, and in the course of time the child put many a fact or deduction away in the same category. As she grew older she thought for herself more surely,and for Towns also. He got into a habit of accepting her conclusions half un- consciously. It was by a similar slow and unconscious process that he de- veloped for her a doglike adoration; and this was never plain to him till the wrench came of going away to college. Miss Susan packed and sent him off to his new duties and prayed and hoped for fresh inspiration and fresh impetus to come to him there. Miss Mary kissed him good by, and cried over him in her sweet, neutral way; but no one missed him perhaps so much as Lucy. She was a tall slip of a girl then, pretty with that beauty of youth and good breeding and intelli- gent humor of expression that trans- forms even plain features to attractive grace. It was not long after that that she made her first stand of opposition. Ive made up my mind to go to college, Aunt Susan. Miss Susan took her eyeglasses off and looked her niece carefully over, as if to identify her. Thats the most absurd thing youve said yet, she volunteered; and youll never be able to talk me round to that notion. Ive no patience with these girls going to college; aping men,thats what it is. The girl made no reply, and her aunt interpreted her silence as omi- nous of persistency. She had taken up her book to indicate that the sub- ject was finished. Presently she laid it down again and issued a supple- ment. I hope you wont speak of it again, Lucy. 314 THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. Ill try not to, if you dont like to hear it, Aunty; but it will naturally be in my mindwhile Im preparing. I suppose I have money enough? Its not a question of money,- Miss Susan felt the exasperation of one who is beating against a rock, its a matter of sex difference. The women of my family have never been mannish. Lucy smiled inwardly. She remembered how some one had once described her Aunt Susan as a fine manly woman. There were further discussions and differences on the subject; but the girl stood firm in her intention, and her aunt finally yielded to the considera- tion of Lucys ultimate responsibility for herself. In the two years before her niece left, Miss Susan got some- what used to the idea, so that the rough edge of the disappointment was worn off; but she never got over the conviction that the curriculum of a college unsexed a girl. She always felt that Lucys course had been in some vague way discreditable, though she came in time to feel a great pride in her attainments. Year after year Lucy led her class, while Towns had only held his own by the most faithful industry. Towns took his degree in due course, and came home to enter a law office, in obedience to the scheme of his education. The two young peo- ple met only in the vacations. The boys love grew and developed with his growth, and his admiration of Lucys person and attributes was un- stinted. This led to an espousal of her course in the next issue between her aunt and herself, when his preju-. dice would naturally have put him on the other side. It was when Lucy, at the close of her course, won a foreign fellowship of two years. She came home with the great news and an- nounced her choice of international law and sociology. Law! Miss Susan sat down and gave herself up to this last shock in dumb horror. What that new-fangled ology might be she did not know probably something equally improper for a woman to be engaged in; but law !it wasyes, it was positively immodest! The girl as she talked in her unconscious enthusiasm was so delicately pretty in her slim youthful- ness, her hair curling childishly about her forehead, her pervasive femininity evidenced in each little trick of dress and manner, that poor Miss Susan could not believe this last departure to be genuine. It was like a nightmare. Lucy must waken presently to a sense of her fitting sphere. Meanwhile she must do her duty by her brothers child. So she found voice at last and proceeded to argue, storm, persuade, but to no purpose. She called in Miss Mary, and finally Towns, to wit- ness and assist; but it was useless. Lucy on her side remained serene and courteous, while her aunt was neither, and finally it developed in the unequal contest that the allies had gone over, horse, foot and dragoons, to the win- ning side! Miss Mary reminded her sister that Lucy was of age and in possession of her income, and should be in a way free, while Towns averred that so many girls were nowadays en- tering his profession that the law was becoming an eminently ladylike pur- suit. The height of exasperation was reached when in reply to a sally of Miss Susans, Lucy maintained that she was pursuing a duty to her family no less than herself in persisting in the course she had marked out. A likely story! cried Miss Susan. Disgrace your family and yourself then give the performance the fine name of duty !thats what a mans education does for a woman! Of course she went in the end, though with the compromise of an elderly cousin for chaperon. It was during the preparations for departure that Miss Susans next great blow was dealt her. Towns announced one morning that he felt a call he could no longer disregard, to enter the min- istry, and to add to the poignancy of this Lucy stood by him in his resolve. As might have been expected, she at THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. 315 once took the initiative in his cham- pionship and pleaded his cause. She said she was sorry he felt that he must alter his plans and appear to thwart Miss Susan; but a man should be true to himself first,and after all a clergyman should be of all men the most effective citizen. Miss Susan had not found them to be so, but she felt silenced by the inscrutable sense of being in the wrong. Surely a God-fearing woman could not op- pose a young man desiring to enter His service; and yet she felt keenly that thus far in her experience that service had never seemed to embrace the service of the State. It was after the young people were gone, one abroad and the other to the theological seminary, that she voiced her first misgiving. It was at twi- light, when they always missed Lucy the most, and everything seemed changed and lonely, as if something had died out of the old house. I guess there isnt much use trying to help the Lord make plans for other folks. We generally interfere with His. Miss Mary kept silence, for she knew the salve for sore hearts. Time got in its subtle readjust- ments and distintegrations in the two years before Lucy came home. She found the aunts older and grayer, and Miss Susan talked less of the regen- eration of Wiltwyck and the world in general when the Dominie came in to tea. She complained occasionally of the mismanagement of the estate by the lawyers; and when Lucy offered to take a legal hand at getting things to rights, she stiffly disclaimed any in- tention of letting a woman manage her law business. But there came into the house with the girls return a rush of light and cheer and gladness. She was so radiantly happy in the home coming, so demonstrative and loving, so full of strength and confi- dence, that the most obdurate of hearts could not long have resisted her. And in all their differences Miss Susans heart had never hardened to- ward her. She felt to her as the hen must feel when she finds herself the foster parent of ducks. Something is wrong with the established order of the universe. Very dear, very sweet, are thesebut not chickens! Poor Miss Susan was fated to brood only alien eggs. There was Towns. He was as unexpected and disappointing a product as Lucy. In the period of theological study he had finally left the conservative browsing of the old Dutch church and gone into the fold of Episcopalianism, be- coming an extreme ritualist, and was now known as Father Towns. He tried his best to carry out his bene- factors wisrhes. He attended prima- riesfaithfully,where his shovel hat and long-skirted coat were buffeted and pushed about in the crowd. He tried to vote on the right side, but in the obscurity of party complications, into which he could never become ini- tiated, he rarely found out which side was right. His sitting in the board of aldermen Miss Susan gradually gave up as a dream of the past, for there seemed no way to get him there. For all his help or hindrance, the pub- lic funds were still misspent, the streets unclean, and her interests un- tended; but she remained true to him, swallowing one disappointment after another. He lived at home, but they read no more history or civics in the evenings. Towns had always mission meetings or services to attend. Per- haps in time she apprehended the es- sential law of difference between the eggs of ducks and chickens, and bowed to it. At any rate, when Lucy came back she found the aunts going along quietly enough in the old ruts of habit, and disapproval at least pro- duced no longer any outward protest or friction. The girl began at once to enter on the activities she had designed for her- self, and Miss Susan, recognizing the dominant spirit of her niece, in spite of its perversions, as twin to her own, resigned herself to whatever enormi- ties of behavior the future might re- veal. Lucy was sometimes filled with 316 THE EVOLUTION OF A CITIZEN. compunction and pity for her aunts outraged sense of convention. Once she tried to suggest an amend. Its too bad, Aunty, I have to worry you so! Perhaps Id better live somewhere else. No, said Miss Susan grimly; you belong to us; youre our child, no mafter how you behave. The worse it is, the more you need our protection.~~ That was the day Lucy was admit- ted to the bar. Miss Susan felt that if her niece had developed lunacy or leprosy they would have shielded her. How much more that protection was needed since she had acquired the worse disease of being a New Woman. As for Miss Mary, shut away to the life of an invalids chair, she concerned herself but little with the issues at odds. Lucy had come home like a new breath of life to her, and that was enough. To all the girl had to tell of her goings and comings and doings, she gave hungry atten- tion, and was satisfied. Lucy opened an office and, defying precedent, became her own first client, taking in hand at once the management of her estate. She did so well with her affairs that in time her Aunt Susans rock-like prejudice broke down so far as to yield over the family business to her. It came about in time also that municipal suf- frage was granted to women in Wilt- wyck, and after a great reform cam- paign three women were seated on the Common Council. Among them was Lucy Suydam. Towns joined a brothevhood and went to live in the slums of New York. That was after he had proposed marriage to Lucy and been refused. She shook her bead sadly when she did it, for she loved him, and told the truth after her habit. She said it was too incongru- oustoo unnatural! Nature is a hu- morist, and the fear of her laughter sometimes saves us from mis- takes. Once in the twilight over his tea- cup, the poor old Domihie thought to sum up her blessings for Miss Susan. After all, he blundered along, warmed by the soothing beverage to a kind of satisfaction in things as they were,after all, Susan, your dreams have been realized. Your schemes of regeneration have been carried out, your family is representedyou have trained up the ideal citizen ! He bowed blandly to Lucy in her old cor- ner on the hearth. Miss Susan felt it very hard to bear. She shut her thin lips tightly as she watched the fire, and then she said, You are quite mistaken. Nothing, nothing, came out as I wished! Poor Aunty ! Lucy spoke with a pathetic little half laugh, she shot at a pigeon and killed a crow! Ah ! said the Dominie, not quite catching the meaning, and then with vague comprehension and the desire to reconcile consequences to causes, Paul may plant, you know, even Paul, and And I am no Paul ! broke in Miss Susan sharply. It took sometimes more grace than the poor woman could muster to rec- oncile that heartbreaking reversal in the lots of her two children. She knew, she believed, that it must some- how be for the best,but, why,oh, why! Lucy in the chimney corner, her thoughts half wandering with Towns in the byways of a great city, felt a thrill of sympathy and perfect under- standing. She went over and kissed her aunt on the cheek. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. By George Willis Cooke. THE histories and books of refer- ence usually state that Unitarian- ism in New England began in 1815; but the spirit that found ex- pression in it was brought to America with the Pilgrims and the Puritans. Its origins are not to be sought in the religious indifference and torpidity of the eighteenth century, but in the in- dividualism and the rational temper of the men who settled Plymouth, Sa- lem and Boston. Its development is coextensive with the origin and growth of congregationalism, even with that of Protestantism itself. Not being a creed or a sect, its essen- tial truths and its spirit are at the heart of all modern Christianity and of every attempt to make of it a great world-philanthropy or to bring it into harmony with philosophy and science. So long as New England has been in ex- istence, for so long, at least, has Unitarianis.m in its motives and its rational tem- per been at work in the name of toleration, indi- vidualism and the spirit of free inQuiry. In the broad and prophetic ideas of John Robinson, in the intense ~love of liberty of Sir Henry Vane, in the sturdy sense and rational judgments of John Winthrop, in the humanitarian spirit of Sir Richard Salstonstall, in the fidelity of Roger Williams to toleration and his keen insight into 317 the meaning of soul liberty, what is now called Unitarianism in this coun- try had its beginnings. Even if these men were Calvinists in theology, as was the fashion of thought in their time and place, yet they set going a way of thinking and of regarding hu- man duties that caused their suc- cessors to break away almost inevi- tably from their teachings. In so far as they loved political and religious liberty, fostered the spirit of free in- quiry, sought to reduce Christianity to faith in Christ and single-hearted confidence in the Bible, and applied reason to the interpretation of reli- gion, as they did to some extent in all these particulars, were they pre- paring the way for Unitarianism. Three tendencies of the founders of New England became in time the m o st character- istic features of what is known as liberal Chris- tianity. The Pil- grims, and in lesser degree the Puritans, were democrats, or what we now know as individ- ualists. They held more strong- ly than was done in Europe in the seventeenth cen- tury to the con- ception of per- sonal loyalty to Christ, and sal- vation they made distinctly indi- vidual in their theory of con- version. In fact, to them the in- dividual man was in every direction the central force,in religion, in poli- tics and in morals. This led to those JONATHAN MAYHEW. 318 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. frequent assertions of individual opin- ion with which the founders of Mas- sachusetts had to contend, and which, as soon as outward restriction was re- moved by William and Mary in their demand for toleration, showed itself in a constantly growing and widening expression of individualism in poli- tics and religion. Throughout the eighteenth century was developing that democratic spirit which found manifestation in American indepen- dence and the Unitarian movement. Another tendency was that towards simplification in religion, which in CHARLES cHAUNcY. From the painting in the Massachnsetts Historical Societys collection. time became the most distinguishing feature of Unitarianism. In the covenants of all the early churches, including almost without exception those formed in the seventeenth cen- tury, there is nothing in the form of a creed or of doctrinal statement. The covenant was an expression of obliga- tion, of personal loyalty to Christ as the head of the church, of individual desire for his guidance and inspira- tion, and a pledge of those accepting it that they would be loyal to each other in Christian admonition and charity. While the covenants were not free by any means from doctrinal implications, yet these were simply JAMES stated and were such as are funda- mental in the beliefs of Christians of every sect and party. Such was the nature of the covenants that they per- mitted of indefinite growth in opinion and belief; and in a number of in- stances they are still retained by churches that have become Unitarian. The constitution of these churches not being creedal, when individuals became liberal they could be retained as members without difficulty; and in time the church itself could as easily join the broader company. This ten- dency was fostered by that spirit of church independency which became one of the chief characteristics of 319 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. New England congre- gationalism from the end of the seventeenth century. A third tendency was that towards ra- tionalism in the inter- pretation of the Bible, which manifested itself from the very begin- nings of New Eng- land. The eager and inquisitive searching of the Bible on every occasion and in regard to every human con- cern, instead of keep- iir~i~i~x vv~~~ JR. ing men loyal to the Puritan doc- trines, silently and irresistibly led them away from those teachings. The people were taught to seek the Bible as the direct and au- thentic revelation of God, the final court of appeal in religion, morals and politics alike, and that every man and woman had the right to search it for himself. The growing individualism would not rest contented with the old explanations, but every passage was discussed, all the doctrines were every day brought anew to the test of com- mon sense and applicability to human needs. There could be but one re- sult of such demands upon such a people, that there should slowly but surely come new interpretations into acceptance. This is what we see tak ing place throughout the eighteenth century in regard to all the Bible doc- trines, and then the growth of new schools of thought and the swift aris- ing of new sects during the last half of that century. Turning over the sermons and pamphlets printed in great numbers from i68o to 1730, we find the word Arminian appearing with growing frequency. It was then a somewhat indefinite word for a very indefinite thing, a mere word with which to condemn vice, general depravity, in- dependency in thinking or spiritual insight into larger truth, on the part of preach ~rs who thought themselves especially called to the defence of orthodoxy. The great Hollander who in the seventeenth century held that the individual .man can do something about his own salvation, that he can and ought to try to live as he thinks God demands, and that he need not and ought not to wait for the sovereignty of God to do everything for him, gave his Latin name to the Armin- AARCIIN tSAINL,ROFT. JO5RPH TIJCKERMAN. 320 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. ian movement. It was a move- ment rather than a sect or a creed, an assertion of free will in morals and democracy in religion, and was a part of that growing tendency of Protes- tantism to find and to remain faithful to its own spirit. From the study of the Bible assiduous purpose, and from the reading of English books as opportunity offered, albeit not with too great frequency, came Arminianism. In the sermons of the time it was said that, while grace is the way of Gods method, men ought of themselves to live good lives, and this would help to the coming of the supernatural grace to its own work. Then the preachers dared to say that faith is not all, and that good Works authenticate it and give it meaning. These seem very commonplace things to say now, and nobody thinks of denying them; but they were great new truths at the begin- ning of the eighteenth century, and truths that were called heresy with a great deal of anger and sharp criticism. Such Arminianism as there was, however, can be best described as a part of the growing democratic impulse of the time, the searching for freedom of the indi- vidual and his right to utter his own mind, rather than any defi- nitely formulated departure from Calvinism. So far as culture was advancing or coming to have any meaning for a man here and there, it was a part of the same tendency. Then came the Great Awaken- ing, one of the most remarkable and far-reaching religious manifes- tations in its effects that this con- tinent has ever witnessed. It re- vived Calvinism into new life and power. It found in Jonathan Edwards one of the CRANNING MEMORIAL, NEWPORT. FIRST CHURCH, BOSTON. greatest thinkers our country has pro- duced; and such was the intellectual quicken- ing which he gave to the theology of the eighteenth century that a long succession of strong preachers modi- fied Calvinism in many subtle ways. New 44 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. 321 FIRST CHURCH, PLYMOUTH. churches were organized as the result of the revival, the congrega- tions were largely increased, and re- ligion became a more vital and prac- tical interest; but there was also strong reaction, many rebelled against the excesses and follies of the revival, and Arminianism spoke out clearly and strongly. To the revival is due what has been called the New England theology; and to it is also due the Unitarian movement. To understand this it must be kept clearly in mind that the Calvinism of the eighteenth century was on the one hand tritheism and on the other fatalism. A trinity of manifestations was not then taught, but that there are three distinct divine beings working to one end, it is true, but three persons none the less. The sovereignty of God was so taught as practically to mean fatalism of the grimmest and most pitiless kind, man being held absolutely subject to the tyrannical will of a merciless deity. Such being that which was taught as Calvinism, albeit far enough from what Calvin himself gave to the world in his system, it is not surprising that a people aspiring to the spirit of de- mocracy and to the full intent of mdi- vidualism should rebel, in the name of the Bible and because Christ said nothing of like pur- port. Before! the revival had come to an end a new problem pre- sented itself to inquiring minds, that of the relations of Christ to God. Rebelling against the tritheism that was taught in the name of Calvin, and having no philosophy by means of which to work out a larger conception of their relations to deity, they fell back on a purely practical inter- pretation, and said that as the son is subordinate in the house of his father, so is Christ in his position with reference to God. The technical name for this view is Arianis.m, from the name of a famous theologian of the third century. To some extent this doctrine came over from England, but much more largely it was worked out from the pages of the Bible itself, by men who loved its every word and held it their highest duty to find just what it means, as God gave it to man for his instruction. Many were the pamphlets printed in affirmation or denial of these opinions, and men came to be known as Arians who did not love the name nor wish to be so condemned HENRY W. BELLOWS. 322 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. as heretical. This may be affirmed of them, however, that they believed in the Bible even more zealously than those of the other party, and that their loyalty to Christ was in no de- gree weakened. What came about was that the liberals demanded a re- turn to the simplicity of the gospel teachings, and that they rejected all creeds as obstructions between the soul and Christ. The chief opponent of the excesses of the revival was Charles Chauncy of the First Church in Boston, who was a stron.g preacher, a r~acIv writer, and a man of sound judgment and wisdom. He printed many sermons and wrote a dozen books, some of them pre- senting the Arian doctrine and some of them affirming universal salvation; but al- ways he was vigorous, wise and effective. He was one of the leading preachers in New England from a pulpit which he occupied for sixty years, dying in 1787. In the West Church of Bos- ton, from 1747 to 1766, was Jonathan Mayhew, and he was without question the most in- fluential preacher in New England during the eighteenth century, not by reason of the numbers who heard him, but in the character of the men whose opinions were shaped by him. He distinctly rejected the doctrine of the trinity and affirmed the simple unity of God. Almost alone of the preachers of his time his sermons can be rea now with interest and satis IAN TEI{IUI{ OF KING S CHAPEL. KING S CHAPEL. UNITARIANISM FREDERICK H. HEDGE. faction, so broad were they and modern in spirit. With these men should be named Ebenezer Gay of Hingham, Samuel West of New Bed- ford, Jeremy ,Belknap of Boston, William Bentley of Salem, Ezra Rip- ley of Concord, James Freeman of Boston, and many more. What these men affirmed was a re- ligion adapted to human needs, that would give to men deep pieties and profound spiritual convictions. They had no scheme of theology to defend, and they widely differed from each other. Some went only so far as to believe that man is free to serve God from the motives that are natural to him; others held to the subordinate but supernatural and pre~xistent na- ture of Christ; and others maintained that broadness and liberality should characterize the work of every Chris~ tian teacher. This individualistic ten- dency was showing itself everywhere, in the infidelities that came over from France at the time of the Revolution, in the growth of the Baptist denom- ination and its noble warfare for sep- aratj~n of Church and State, in the appearance of the Universalists in many parts of the country and the rapid spread of their doctrines, and in the rejection of creeds and meta- physical doctrines on the part of sev 323 IN AMERICA. so eral bodies calling themselves Disci- ples or Christians. These movements and several others of the last years of the eighteenth century were really of kindred nature in their democratic spirit and in their assertion of a strong individualism. They carried Americanism over from the realm of politics into that of religion, and in them the common people spoke for humanitarianism and equality. JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. THOMAS 5TARR KING. 324 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. PARKMAN. PALFREY. MOTLEY. SPARKS. BANCROFT. PRESCOTT. With the beginning of the nine- With the beginning of the nine- teenth century Unitarianism was teenth century there - came in several named with that name, though the directions definite declarations of Uni- snbstance of s teaching had been heard for more than half a century. It was not a word of preachers only, nor the ontgrowth of mere theologi- cal speculation in the study, for its aim was practical far more than theo- retical. As early as i777, Timothy Pickering, Secretary of State under Washington, whose home was in Salem, Massachusetts, became a Uni- tarian. In 1797 Joseph Story worked his way into Unitarianism while a stndent at Harvard. Several years earlier John Adams had arrived at the same conclusion, as did Thomas Jefferson. With these men might be named many statesmen, merchants, physicians, lawyers and teachers, who went the same way from the same causes. JAMES WAi~K. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA.~ 325 tarian beliefs. In 1805 were pnblished Hosea Ballons Treatise on the Atonement, which was uneqnivo- cally Unitarian, although written by a Universalist, and John Shermans One God in OnePersonOnly. Five years later appeared Noah Worces- ters Bible News of Father, Son and Holy Ghost, which was widely read and cansed mnch discnssion. In 1803 The Monthly Anthology was begnn in Boston, the first genninely literary magazine pnblished in the conntry, which was edited by William Emer- son and Samnel C. Thaeher, pastors of Boston chnrches that were on the liberal side. They were aided by Dr. Gardiner, the rector of Trinity Church, Joseph Buck- minster of the Brattle Street Church, and others of like char- acter and love of learn- ing, who organized themselves into the Anthology Club for the management of the magazine, and who started a reading room that grew into the Boston Athen~eum, now the best working library in the country. After a little The An- thology spoke out on the liberal side, and its pages began a defence of a broad and tolerant Christianity. But most important of all in cansing discussion was the election of Henry Ware, a country min- ister at Hingham to th~ Hollis professor- ship at Harvard, a po- sition that made him the pastor of the col- lege congregation and the moral instructor of t h e undergraduates. This act was regarded by the conservatives with great concern, and the Andover Theological School was founded in i8o8 as a counteract- ing influence. What bronght division was the publication of a pamphlet of one hun- dred pages in ~8I5, being a chapter from an English book in which were given letters from ministers in Boston and the vicinity reporting that Uni- tarian doctrines were held by this man and that. In The Panoplist this little book was commented on as showing that the liberals were of the same kind with the English Unita- rians, and that they were too cow- ardly to say ont plainly what they thought. To these statements Wil- liam Ellery Channing, the minister of ROBERT coLLYER. ~YRU5 BARTOL. RUFUS P. STEBBINS. WILLIAM R. ALGER. 326 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. BRYANT. the Federal Street Church, made re- ply, saying that he and his friends were not humanitarians, as were the English Unitarians, that they re- garded Christ only as of lesser authority and power than God himself, and that they were in no sense cow- ards in refusing to preach on questions of a contro- versial character. They had not left their congre- gations in any doubt, however, as to the posi- tions they held or the mo- tives that actuated them. It is not now necessary to follow this and other dis- cussions. They were not altogether creditable to LOWELL. HOLMES. LONGFELLOW. either side, and if a little more toleration had been exhibited the separation that followed might have been avoided. There was not one EMERSON. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. 327 of the men on the liberal side in 1815 or 1825 who had gone more widely astray from Calvinism than have scores of the leading preachers in the Orthodox Congregational churches of the present day. From 1815 onwards for twenty years was the period of division in the standing order of New Eng- land, in that congregational body of churches that had been the heart of its life from the beginning. This di- visive process was complicated with considerations of the ownership of church property, with political ques- tions as to the rule of the leading men or the body of the common people, and with the problem of the relations of Church and State. After the sep- aration there xvas manifested in the liberal churches a strong tendency to independency, on the part of many of the older and richer societies, and also a spirit of individualism on the part of the meu who were the most prom- inent and influential. These tenden- cies made it difficult to organize a new denomination; and what most of the liberal men desired was to keep clear of every phase of the sectarian spirit, so hateful had it become to those who had felt its blight upon them. Such men as Channing re- fused to join in organizing a new re- ligious body, and the Unitarians have generally gone with him in calling theirs a movement and not a sect. So strong has been this feeling on the part of this unsectarian sect that it has been impossible to create in it those methods of proselyting that have been widely acceptable in other religious bodies. In 1813 was begun the publication of The Christian Disciple by Noah Worcester, which grew in 1824 into The Christian Examiner, which con- tinued until 1869 as an able and in- dependent journal of the liberal re- ligion. In 1821 The Christian Regis- ter began its noble career as a weekly journal devoted to the Unitarian cause. As early as i8i~ The North American Review entered upon its long career, and deserves mention JULIA WARD HOWE. DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX. 328 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. GEORGE F. HOAR. here, because for fifty years it was edited by such Unitarians as Ed- ward Everett, Jared Sparks, John Gorham Paifrey and Andrew P. Peabody, while during the same period nearly all its contributors were of the same re- ligious party. This was not because other writers were excluded, but because the men and women who were attracted to such a periodical and were JOHN D. best fitted to furnish the contri- butions suited to its pages were Unitarians. At the same time the Unitarians were furnishing the gov- ernors, congressmen, judges and other leaders of political and social life in Massachusetts and the great merchants and manufacturers who were building up her economic inter- ests to a high state of development. The people selected them to govern the State because they did it well and honestly, although they were un- doubtedly in the minority of voters. When the division in congregation- alism took place, the Unitarians had only about one hundred churches in Massachusetts and about twenty-five in other parts of New England, to which should be added less than a dozen west of the Hudson River. These churches were thoroughly im- bued with the spirit and methods of independency and little inclined. to act with each other. They were devoted to all the philanthropies, giving largely for charitable purposes and for the founding of colleges and other educational institutions. In Boston societies of every kind were organized in behalf of reforms and charities, for helping seamen, for pro- moting temperance, for the protec- tion of children, for spreading the Bible broadcast, and for a hundred other good causes, in aid of which Unitarians were zealously active; in fact, they furnished the money and the work- ing force in nearly every one of them. Two of the men who were leaders in this kind of work may be mentioned as espe- cially noteworthy in their charitable activ- ities. The first of these was Noah Worcester, who has been called the Apostle of Peace, for he organized the first peace society in LONG. the world and edited CARROL~ ~. vv 1. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. 329 Churches, with its numerous chapels and faithful ministers. The cause of the poor and the cause of peace had their first organized recognition in this country with the Unitarians, who stood in the same relation to the tem- perance reform movement of the same period, as well as the formation of the first Bible society in this country. Dr. Tuckerman was at first the do- mestic missionary of the American Unitarian Association; and to give him his parish amongst the poor was almost the first task it entered upon after its organization in May, 1825. Chief among the men who brought this organization into existence were THEODORE PARKER. Ezra Stiles Gannett, then the youth- for several years the first periodical ful associate of Dr. Channing, and advocating that cause. He was zeal- Henry Ware the younger, then the ously devoted to the promotion of this minister of the Second Church in Bos- reform and ton. Neither of gave to it many these men was of the best sectarian in aim years of his or method; but life. With him they wishedjto should be work with those named Joseph who thought as Tucker man, they did, and who began in they wished to 1826 his splen- have an oppor- did work as the tunity of doing minister to the something to poor in Boston. aid the cause He left a coun- which they had try parish at at heart, the Chelsea to live restoration of with the poor the simple reli- and to devote all gion of Jesus his energies to Christ. Associ- the promotion ated with the.m of their inter- was Aaron Ban- ests. All the croft, the mm- modern ideas ister of the Sec- on the subject ond Church in of helping the Worcester, who poor, whatever EDWARD EVERETT HALE. b e c a m e t h e has been accepted under the name first president of the new organ- of associated charities, were put ization, with Gannett as the secretary. into practice in Boston before 1830 This society began in a very small and advocated by him in his reports way, but with earnest conviction and and in his books. His work grew purpose. It entered at once upon its into the ministry-at-large and then work of aiding feeble churches, send- into the Benevolent. Fraternity of ing missionaries to the West, pub- lishing tracts and books, seeking the fellow- ship of Unitarians in England, Geneva, France and Hungary, and doing what it could to pro- mote the same cause in India. Compared with the activities of some of the great missionary societies, the work of the Unitarian Association has been very small, and especially have the contributions it has re- ceived been at the extreme of beggarliness, compared with the wealth of churches and in- dividuals taking the Unitarian name. This has not been on account of any lack of philan- thropic spirit on the part of individuals or churches, nor from any unwillingness to give. The giving has been free in all other directions, and with an almost unstinted generosity; but it has not been into sectarian channels or for purposes upon which the Uni- tarian name could beplaced. There has been an almost mor- bid dislike of d e n o mination- al proselyting and of giving from motives that are sec- tarian in their nature. In spite of this strong influ- ence always working against it, the American Uni- tarian Associa- tion has ac- complished a large amount of useful and mportant work. Fully one-half the dhurches now taking the U n itarian name in New England have been aided by CHARLE5 CARROLL EVERETT. it, and very 330 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. ~ARLE5 F. DOLE. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA~ 33 dian tribes in our own country, the Utes being the last to receive such aid. Unitarians have actively co6perated with the Christian denomination in its educational work, es- pecially at Antioch College and the Mead- ville Theological School, and from 1830 to i86o the relations of the two religious bodies were very close. After the close of the civil war nearly all of those west financial aid was fur- of the Hudson River, nished generously to the from New York to San African Methodist Francisco. Church, in support of Unitarians have never its educational work, been friendly to mis- especially at Wilber- sionary enterprises as force University. This they have been usually aid was given wholly conducted, especially in from a desire to help the earlier days of those the negroes in securing great proselyting enter- such educational oppor- prises. However, they tunities as they needed, maintained a number of and without doctrinal missions in India for agreement or wish to many years, under the influence the denomi- direction of Rev. C. H. SAMUEL M. CROTHERS. national position of the A. Dall, who largely devoted himself religious body that was aided. to educational work, and with re- Theworkof Unitarians for education markable success. The interest in In- and for the advancement of culture has dia began with the theistic writing been of the highest importance and andpreaching of Rammohun Roy, and widely extended. Horace Mann, the has continued with Chun- greatest educational der Sen and Protap Mo- leader the country has zoomdar. At a later known, was aggres- date a series of missions sively Unitarian; and was established in Japan, his educational activ- which include a num- ities were thoroughly ber of native preachers in harmony with his re- and missionaries, a suc- ligious convictions. His cessful theological labors for the common school and a monthly schools of New Eng- journal. Help has been land, and his martyrdom furnished to the Uni- in behalf of higher edu- tarian churches of cation at Antioch Col- Transylvania and other lege, have not yet ceased European countries, to bear fruit through- Missions have also been out the country. The carried on in various In- HOWARD N. BROWN. devoted zeal of Eliza JOHN WHITE CHADWICK. ~AHLES G. AMES. 332 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. University, the Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute and the Tnskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, the aid being given by individuals and churches, however, and not through distinctly de- nominational channels. Another important work has been the ministry of education in the South carried on for nearly twenty years by Rev. A. D. Mayo, aided by the Unitarian Association and by individuals and churches connected with the Uni- tarian body. Perhaps no work done in the South has been larger in its results or more effective in bringing the educational methods employed into barmony with modern ideals. Mr. Mayo has lec- tured in every southern state, visited every higher educational in- s t i t u t i o n, brought his in- fluence to bear upon all leaders of opinion, and given broad di- rection to plans and methods for the future in every part of the wide region he h a s traversed, from Maryland to Texas and from Kentucky to Florida. It is char- acteristic of Unitarians that they have not 5AMURL A. ELIOT. beth P. Peabody and Mrs. Horace Mann in their advocacy of the cause of the kin dergar t e n had its strength in their Unita- rian conceptions of personal growth and in- dividual culture. At the present time it is fitting that the leading educator of the country, who has done more than any other to advance uni- versity training AMERICAN UNITARIAN A to the position it ought to occupy and to give true direction to educational ideals, should be a Unitarian. The time was when Harvard was severely condemned for its liberal religious position; but it has justified itself to the coun- try, and its methods are now widely accepted. It may be that only one who is the product, to the third or fourth generation, of Unitarian training could take the place that President Eliot now fills as the head of Harvard Univer- sitv and the educational leader of the country. If Unitarians have been slow in What are called .missionary labors, they have been more than generous in their helping of educational interests of all kinds. To the aid of the negroes they sent many teachers after the close of the civil war, and they have continued such work since. They have contributed to the Atlanta GEORGE BATCHELOR. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. 333 attempted to carry on the kind of educational work that gives to the Orthodox Congregationalists so long a list of denominational col- leges and theological schools. They have preferred to work through the institutions that are sanctioned by the State and therefore belong to all the people. What they believe in is far better represented by Cornell, Michigan or Minnesota University than by Antioch or the most suc- cessful of denominational colleges. In fact, their work of this kind is too small to deserve even a mention, for they distrust sectarian. education as much as sectarian missionary propo- gandism. The theological school in connection with Harvard University was the first to be- gin its work in this country, and it has always been gener- ously helped by Unitarians; but for many years it has been wholly unsec- tarian, devoted to the scientific study of theology. At Meadville, Pennsyl- L~ vania, is a Unita- nan theological school; but it is of less importance to Unitarians them- selves than is the institution that places religion above sect and party. No generous cause has ever been without its Unitarian advocates, how- ever unpopular it might be. That the Unitarian denomination did not as a body take the lead in the antislavery movement must be now a cause of sincere regret, but the reason of this failure must be found in its extreme individualism, that rebelled against any attempt to control the opinions and actions of others. In sentiment and in conviction the Unitarians were from the first com- mitted to the cause of freedom and humanity, but their sensitive- ness to individual rights made them cowards where they meant to be generous. As in the case of no other denomination, however, the majority were opposed to slavery; and a list of those who devoted themselves to the antislavery cause would be a long one. If Dr. Channing spoke reluc- tantly he spoke bravely and with pro- found earnestness. His book on slavery and his addresses had a wide- reaching and great influence. No one could have spoken with greater courage or more entire devotion than Samuel J. May, Samuel May, William Henry Channing, Theodore Parker, John Pierpont, James Freeman Clarke, William H. Furness, and many others. At an antislavery pic- nic held August i, 1843, which was largely attended from Boston and the surrounding towns, all the speakers were Unitarian ministers, including John Pierpont, Caleb Stetson, Charles Follen and Robert C. Waterston. This is indicative of how individuals responded to a cause so thoroughly in harmony with Unitarian convic- tions, however faithless denomina- tional action may have been. The Unitarians have always had in their pulpits a goodly number of preachers of national reputation and leadership. In his time no one com- manded a wider moral and spiritual influence than Dr. Channing; and Theodore Parker was a leader who aroused much opposition, but has gradually won many to his way of thinking. For commanding intellec- tual power few preachers have 2dEADVILLE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL. 334 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. equalled Orville Dewey, Frederick H. Hedge, Cyrus A. Bartol and William H. Furness. In the time of the civil war, Henry W. Bellows was every- where known as a great preacher and as the president of the Sanitary Com- mission. It is the testimony of all that Starr King saved California to the Union; and when his influence brought $ioo,ooo to the Sanitary Commission, with equal sums follow- ing in rapid succession, it gave that organization an opportunity to do a great and wide-reaching work. No one for the past forty years has been listened to more widely or with greater delight than Edward Everett Hale, even by the multitude who did not know that his Lend-a-Hand movement, Kings Daughters and other similar organizations are char- acteristically Unitarian in their spirit. While Robert Collyer, Minot J. Savage, Thomas R. Slicer, W. W. Fenn, Jenkin Lloyd Jones, Charles G. Ames and Samuel M. Crothers are in the pulpit, it cannot be said that the Unitarians have lost anything of their influence as the spiritual leaders of their time and country. For scholarship the Unitarians have always received much credit, their ranks having included such scientists as Louis Agassiz, Benjamin A. Gould, Jeifries Wyman, Benjamin Pierce, Nathaniel Bowditch and Maria Mitchell; and at the present time Col. Carroll D. Wright of the National Bureau of Labor, and Presi- dent David Starr Jordan of the Leland Stanford Junior University sustain that record. In the list of historians they have had George Ban- croft, George Ticknor, J. L. Motley, W. H. Prescott, Francis Parkman, John G. Palfrey, Jared Sparks, Rich- ard Hildreth and John Fiske. Among the great jurists and lawyers they have included John Marshall, Joseph Story, Theophilus Parsons, Samuel F. Miller, Walbridge A. Field, John Lowell, Joseph H. Choate, George Ticknor Curtis, Fisher Ames and Harrison Gray Otis. Four 6f the presidents of the United States have been Unitarians, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, John Quincy Adams and Millard Fill- more. Two others, Abraham Lin- coln and James A. Garfield, were of a way of thinking that brought them into harmony with Unitarians as to their conceptions of Christianity. Of statesmen and political leaders the number is too great to mention more than here and there a name but Benjamin Franklin, Edward Everett, Charles Sumner, Daniel Webster, Charles Francis Adams, John C. Cal- houn, Josiah ~uincy, Justin S. Mor- rill and George F. Hoar must not be omitted. Such names as those of John A. Andrew, George S. Boutwell, Alphonso Taft, John T. Bagley, Horace Davis, John D. Long, George William Curtis, Dorman B. Eaton and William B. Allison are also to be mentioned. The Unitarians may also claim a very considerable number of the lead- ers of business, commerce and indus- trial progress, including Amos Law- rence, Ezra Cornell, Jonas G. Clark, Abbott Lawrence, Henry P. Kidder, Peter Cooper, Enoch Pratt and John A. Lowell, the founder of the Low- ell Institute in Boston. Here also may be placed the names of such philanthropists and leaders of reform as Dorothea Dix, Samuel G. Howe, Henry Bergh, Mary A. Livermore, Mary Hemenway, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, Julia Ward Howe and Jose- phine Shaw Lowell. Of the great authors and poets of the country, the Unitarians may claim Emerson, Hawthorne, Long- fellow, Bryant, Lowell, Holmes, Thoreau, Higginson and Howells. Bayard Taylor also, Louisa M. Al- cott, Margaret Fuller, Bret Harte, Lydia Maria Child, Helen Hunt Jackson, Harriet Prescott Spofford, Richard H. Stoddard, Edwin P. Whipple, James T. Fields and George Ripley are to be numbered. Among the artists have been William W. UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA.~ 335 Story, Harriet Hosmer, Charlotte Cushman, Fanny Kemble and Daniel C. French. Several preachers who have gained a literary reputation may also be mentioned, the list including Sylvester Judd, John Weiss, David A. Wasson, Samuel Johnson, John S. Dwight, William Ware, Charles T. Brooks, William R. Alger, 0. B. Frothingham and Joseph H. Allen; and many other names might be added. Credit has always been given the Unitarians for their intellectual and literary leadership, but their religious and spiritual qualities have never been fully recognized. The devo- tional works of William H. Furness, Edmund H. Sears, Henry Ware, Jr., and others have been of such quality that they would have given their au- thors a great reputation had they been of the kind that appeal to the mass of worshippers in their theology. Wares Formation of the Christian Character is a masterpiece of its kind, as is Searss Heart of the Fourth Gospel. Especially has the devotional poetry of the Unitarians been of a high quality, both as to its literary excellence and its fineness of spiritual insight. Here may be men- tioned the names of Samuel Longfel- low, John W. Chadwick, William C. Gannett, Frederick L. Hosmer, Ed- ward R. Sill, Jones Very and Eliza Scudder (all the best of whose poems were written while she was a Uni- tarian). Including Samuel Johnson, W. H. Furness, F. H. Hedge, 0. W. Holmes, j. F. Clarke and E. H. Sears, who have been mentioned in other connections, these poets have given us a body of religious verse that is elsewhere unsurpassed as expressive of the best spiritual aspirations of the present time. Could this body of re- ligious verse be brought together in one volume, it would be seen that the Unitarians have a devotional and spiritual gift that entitles them to the highest consideration as Christian worshippers. The tradition of Unitarian scholar- ship cannot pass away while there re- main such men as Charles Carroll Everett in philosophy and Crawford H. Toy in Biblical research. Of the younger men, Jabez T. Sunderland, Joseph H. Crooker, William W. Fenn and W. H. Pulsford have given spe- cial attention to Biblical studies. In the direction of dealing with social problems, Francis G. Peabody of Har- vard University and Nicholas P. Gil- man of the Meadville Theological School have done notable work. Sev- eral of these men are connected with the New World, a journal of modern theology that has no superior. If its editors are Unitarians, its contribu- tors are of every denominational con- nection, scholarship and not creed being the test. An interesting and important fea- ture of Unitarian work has been the College Town Mission, which was begun at Ann Arbor, in order to reach the students of Michigan Uni- versity, in 1865. The first missionary was Charles H. Brigham, a man of broad and deep scholarship, an inter- esting and inspiring preacher, whose lectures and whose Bible class drew to him hundreds of students. A few years later a similar mission was opened at Ithaca, in connection with Cornell University, which had Ezra Cornell as a regular attendant and supporter and Andrew D. White as a friend and frequent attendant. The first minister here was Dr. Rufus P. Stebbins, a vigorous and command- ing preacher, who had been president of the Meadville Theological School and for several years president of the Unitarian Association. At the pres- ent time the Ann Arbor mission is in charge of Joseph H. Crooker, that at Ithaca of Ulysses G. B. Pierce, and that at Madison of Frank A. Gilmore. There are similar missions at Law- rence, Kansas, under the charge of Frederick M. Bennett; at Lincoln, Nebraska, of which the minister is John Lewis Marsh; Iowa City, with Elinor E. Gordon as the minister; Minneapolis, with Henry M. Sim 336 UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA. mons in charge. Similar missions are maintained at Amherst, Exeter, and other places. This work has been one of the most successful ever under- taken by Unitarian~, and has had a large result in making known their religious beliefs and intellectual atti- tude to hundreds of young men and women xvho become the leaders in the communities in which they reside. Of the distinctly denominational equipment of the Unitarians may be mentioned the Building of the Ameri- can Unitarian Association, located at 25 Beacon Street, Boston, directly across the way from the Congrega- tional House,a fitting proximity. Here are carried on all the general denominational activities, including missionary, publishing and Sunday- school interests. Branch centres are also maintained in New York, Chi- cago and San Francisco. The Asso- ciation this year celebrates its seventy- fifth anniversary of its organization. Its president is Carroll D. VVright, the United States Commissioner of Labor; and its secretary is Rev. Samuel A. Eliot, a son of President Eliot of Harvard University. In this building also the National Conference of Unitarian Churches finds its headquarters, with Senator George F. Hoar as president. The Unitarian Sunday-school Society is efficiently managed by its president, Rev. Edward A. Horton, and pub- lishes a notable equipment of helps for its constituency. The Young Peoples Religious Union also has here its office, as does the National Alliance of Unitarian Women. The work done by the Womens Alliance, including the Post Office Mission, is one of great importance. The Church Building Loan Fund, a branch of the work of the Unitarian Asso~iation, has been of much service in the build- ing of new churches, especially in the newer parts of the country. In Chi- cago are located the headquarters of the Western Unitarian Conference and of the Western Sunday-school Society, both of which are active and efficient in their respective fields. The denominational press includes the Christian Register in Boston, Unity in Chicago, and the Pacific Unitarian in San Francisco. As will have been seen, the Uni- tarian body is more notable for its men and women than for its institu- tions or its sectarian achievements. Its spirit has been one to foster indi- viduality and to produce intellectual and spiritual independence. Its co- hesive power has been small, but its incentives to philanthropic and intel- lectual activity have been great. As in the case of no other religious body, it has maintained the law of toleration unimpeached, putting into practice the sympathy of religions in which it has always loyally believed. It may have sharply criticised Theodore Parker, but it did not cast him out; and his name stands with t~hat of Channing to-day as a leader to whom all owe an unfailing reverence. In the Theological School of Harvard University is exemplified the Uni- tarian attitude toward all religious problems, that school being no longer sectarian, but open to the widest re- search and absolute fidelity to truth. No Unitarian fears to question, the past or has any limit fixed to his in- vestigations. This method has given much of agitation and discussion in days past, but its outcome is a grow- ing unity and a deepening spiritual insight. No denomination in Chris- tendom can boast to-day of so real a unity or so sincere a harmony as that which exists in the Unitarian body. To one who has known the Unita- rian movement somewhat intimately for a quarter of a century, it does not now suggest what its critics are in- clined to point out as its defects and weaknesses. It is not growing rap- idly, but never more so than now. Its work is not done, apparently, for it never commanded so much loyalty and enthusiasm as at this time. It is far better equipped for its work than in any previous decade, and it has A POEM. 337 itore ardent and devoted leaders, who know the situation and meet it with skill and trained leadership. Cu- riously enough, in view of the criti- cism often made, the period of intel- lectual discussion has passed away, and at this moment Unitarianism is steadily returning to the devotional and philanthropic attitude which brought it into existence. It began as a humanitarian movement, a yearning to realize the gospel in daily life, and after a long period of critical discussion it is coming back to that same eagerness for making the world better in practical wav5. It is a striking feature of its new life that it is not theological or chiefly intellec- tual, but philanthropic. In its younger ministers may be seen notably the striving for a higher devotional and spiritual realization of religion, that seeks not to settle the problems of the universe, but to make manifest the souls access to God. Heretical as Unitarians are accounted with refer- ence to the leadership of Christ, they are to-day coming to a fresh accept- ance of it, and in a manner that puts them behind no other denomination in realizing for actual life that which Jesus taught. It is not by chance of its place of origin that Unitarianism has led the higher life of the country in philan- thropy, literature and statesmanship. What others have given to sectarian success it has given to the service of mankind. The mission of Unitarian- ism has been to make Christianity simple, practical and humanitarian, to take it out of the realm of theology and to put it into that of~ life. Its creed may be stated in words first used by Rev. Charles G. Ames~ which have been made the bond of union or covenant of many Unitarian churches: In the love of truth, and in the spirit of Jesus Christ, we unite for the worship of God and the service of man. This statement x~as made substantially the basis of fellowship of the National Conference of Uni- tarian and other Christian Churches, at its session held at Saratoga, in 1894, as follows: These churches ac- cept the religion of Jesus, holding in accordance with his teaching, that practical religion is summed up in love to God and love to man; and we invite to our fellowship any who, while differing from us in belief, are in gen- eral sympathy with our spirit and our practical aims. A POEM. By Edward Payson Jackson. A POEM is the rhyme of thought As well as sound, a mingled stream From earth and sky, a fabric wrought With woof of fact and warp of dream. ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. By Caroline Benedict Burrell. EACON, said his wife as he came in with the milk pails, theres a temperance lecturer comm to the Corners next week. The deacon scowled as he passed into the pantry, but made no reply. Presently he reappeared, took the tin wash basin from the hook, and filled it at the sink. Deacon, Id like to go, persisted Mrs. Brown. She was a large, mild woman, who knew how to get her own way, in spite of the fact that, as his neighbors said, Elijah was set in his ways. Temperance lecturer, indeed! sneered the deacon, as he wiped his hands on the roller towel. Whats he comm for, Id like to know? Aint we a God-fearin community? Aint drunkenness frowned down upon? Sarah Jane, you aint goin to no temperance lecture. Flyin in the face of your husbands business, thats what Ii call it. Mrs. Brown quietly put supper on the table and sat down opposite her husband. That speckled hens stole her nest again, she began, as she passed Elijah his tea. Mrs. Hen- derson was in this morning, and she says she saw her down in their meadow a week ago. She says the lecturers goin to stop with them when he comes. Hes a cousin to Hoseas first wife. Hosea Henderson might be in better business than takin in stump speakers that dont know what theyre talkin about, replied Elijah, as he ate his corn bread. Now, Deacon, hes a smart fellow. She was tellin me about him. Hes a young man, just out of college, and he took all the prizes when he was there, and Mrs. Henderson says you 338 just ought to hear him speak. Why, he just makes chills run down your back. I dont know as I want no chills, replied her husband grimly, pushing back his chair fro.m the table. I guess we dont want no young fools comm here interferin. Distillins an honest business. Im a deacon in this church in good and regular standing, and my father was before me. I dont offer no man liquor; I dont hold with drunkenness. I guess the minister knew what he was about when he put me into office. I go accordin to my lights. Thats Scripture, aint it? The deacon rose, set his chair down with qonsiderable force against the wall, and left the kitchen. Mrs. Brown sighed plaintively and began to gather up the dishes. Lijah is a good man, she re- flected, if he is a distiller. Dis- tillins an honest business, as he says, and taint that I want him to give it up. I just want to hear that young man somehow, and know what he has to say. I dont know when Ive heard a lecture. Not since before the new barn was builtand thats three years ago.~~ When the dishes were done and the kitchen was in order, the buckwheat cakes set for breakfast, and the fire laid in the stove, she slipped out through the back lot to Mrs. Hender- sons. He wont hear to my going, she began as her neighbor made room for her on the steps. He just wont hear to it. Lijahs dreadful set. Go, anyhow, replied Mrs. Hen- derson laconically. She was a small, wiry woman, with a voice which set ones teeth on edge and a determina- tion which her husband and family had learned to respect. ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. 339 Oh, I couldnt, fluttered Mrs. Brown. I couldnt cross Lijah like that. But Ill keep right on talkin to him. Its a week yet; I guess in that time I can get him to let me go. Deacon Brown is just the man who ought to hear that lecture, said Mrs. Henderson with great severity. Hes doin devils work, I say. Dis- tillin was all very well in his fathers time; but we know better now. Makin poison, thats what I call it. You just get him to go, Mrs. Brown. Oh, I couldnt; I never could. But you aint got no call to say his business is devils work ;and Mrs. Brown drew herself up with dignity, while her voice shook with injured feeling. Lijahs a good man, and a deacon in the church, and its his own fathers distillery, and there wasnt ever a more respected man than he was, not in this town, Mrs. Hender- son! Mrs. Hendersons father had been the village sexton, and the family had with some difficulty maintained a so- cial equality with their neighbors. The deacon does accordin to his lights, and thats all any of us can do, continued Mrs. Brown. He dont sell liquor except in barrels or kegs, and if some triflin farmers will get drunk on it harvest times or barn raisin, why, its good liquor, and it dont really hurt them. There was Josiah Biggss boy, began Mrs. Henderson with judicial firmness, and Widow Coons son. What about them ? She was feeling the exultation of the turning worm. Well, I must be goin, Mrs. Hen- derson, said Mrs. Brown, rising stiffly. The dews are heavy nights xow. You havent seen that speckled hen again, have you? No, replied her neighbor curtly, annoyed at being balked,no, I aint. Mrs. Brown walked home thought- fully through the damp grass. Theres a katydid, she murmured; falls comm on fast. I do wish Lijah would go to that lecture. I do hope he is doing right, makin liquor. I cant say Ive ever felt quite easy in my mind about it; but he says he aint no doubt makin whiskeys perfectly legitimate, so long as he dont sell it by the drink. But when I think of Widow Coons son, I dont feel sure. Mrs. Brown sighed deeply as she crossed the threshold. The deacon sat reading his paper by the lamp, but did not speak. Tisnt as if we didnt have enough to live on, she thought as she lifted the cloth from the bowl and began to beat the buckwheat batter vigorously. If twas the only way, Id feel different. But theres plenty in the bank to keep us always,and the farm gives us a livin, anyhow. If wed children to leave it to, I wouldnt feel so; but ~without a chick or child, and all a-goin to Lijahs re- lations, whove got plenty now! No, I aint as sure as I might be that its all right. Mrs. Brown tucked the batter up snugly once more and be- gan to shut the windows. Li jah says he guesses the missionaries would know the difference, if he gave up his business. He is libral, thats a fact. But I guess we could make it up out of the crops if we had to. But I aint goin to worry. Hes a good man, and he does accordin to his lights. Friday evening came clear and star- lit. The school bell began to ring at seven oclock, and the farmers and their wives and children came out of their homes as the harsh tones reached their ears. The women locked the front doors behind them, hiding the key under the door-mat, according to time-honored custom, indifferent to the fact that the win- dows were all unfastened. The men wore their best clothes, and some few had anticipated their weekly Sunday morning shave, but on the chins and cheeks of most was a bristling stub- ble. Solemnly, as if the occasion were a funeral, the people walked to the schoolhouse. A temperance lec 340 ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. ture was a strange and wonderful thing in their simple lives. The schoolroom was a small one, lit with unshaded kerosene lamps, which threw weird silhouettes upon the walls. The childrens seats were small, and portly frames with diffi- culty squeezed themselves into their narrow limits. The fathers studied with disapproval the hieroglyphics carved on the desk lids, while the mothers nodded across the aisles to their neighbors. The young people whispered and furtively giggled, but an atmosphere of strangeness and se- riousness pervaded the room. Presently Mrs. Brown came in with Mrs. Henderson, and they took seats near the front. Mrs. Browns face wore a troubled expression. The deacon had not wished her to come, and she feft guilty to think that she had insisted until she had wrung a re- luctant permission from him. The room was almost filled when at last Hosea Henderson and his guest entered. The lecturer paused to take off his overcoat, and the minis- ter went to shake hands with him. Together they walked to the little platform. The minister was an old man, who had seen little of the world. Temperance lecturers were as strange to him as they were to his people. He hesitated as he rose to introduce the speaker. Brethren and sisters, our young brother, William Howe, has come to speak to us of temperance to-night. He will excuse me if T say T think this is a temperance town. But perhaps he has a message for us. Let us re- ceive it if he has ;and he sat down in agitation. These new-fangled ideas were not to his mind. The lecturer rose and advanced to the very edge of the platform. He was tall and gaunt. His black hair was tossed from his forehead; his deep-set, sombre eyes burned with an intense light. He had been the ora- tor in his little college among the hills. Whenever he spoke, even the Faculty had listened with respect, al most with submission. To-night was one of his first appearances as a pub- lic speaker. He must rise to the oc- casion. As he began to speak the rear door opened softly, and, unseen by the au- dience, Deacon Brown slipped quietly into the back seat. The lecturer knew that there were no saloons at the Corners. He knew he was speaking to a staid, orderly audience. He had been puzzled to know what to say to these simple peo- ple, but Hosea Henderson had given him some ideas. There were few young men in the community; they had all gone to the cities. Let the people hear of their trials and tempta- tions there; and then let him give one blow to the distillery on the hill! Deacon Brown would not be there to hear him, but his wife would report the speakers words. Give it to him hot, William, said Hosea, as they reached the school- house. After a few words of introduction the lecturer began to describe the country boy in the gre~tt city. He followed him day by day in his new surroundings; he dwelt on his purity, his earnestness, his faithfulness to his duties. A romantic glamour hung about the young hero. He described him as rising in business, as marrying and establishing his little home; and here and there a mother wiped her eyes as she thought of her boy. Then the scene changed. Tn deep tragic tones the speaker showed the temp- tations of the city. With a free touch he painted the saloons with their dazzling lights. What chance had the inexperienced country boy against such temptations as beset him? He yields. Then comes the awaking, with its remorse, its resolu- tions. But again and again the temp- tation comes, and again and again the fall. Sorrow invades the little home; the wife weeps over her husband; the furniture is sold piece by piece; the children cry for bread, while the father listens with brutal indifference. ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. 34 At last starvation comes, and wife and dhildren die. Then, amid intense stillness, the speaker depicted in lurid colors the horrors of delirium tremens and the tragedy and despair of the drunkards death. His audience shivered and thrilled and wept. The minister bowed his head in his hands. Mrs. Brown sobbed audibly. Who is to blame for all this? de- manded the lecturer. Some one is responsible for all this awful shame and ruin. Slowly he raised his arm and pointed to the back of the room. Thou art the man! he thundered. You who make the liquor; you who first destroy your neighbors home and then kill him body and soul. I call you a murderer! I denounce you as accursed! Through it all the deacon had sat as if stunned. He now rose slowly, blindly, to his feet, stood a moment looking at the lecturer, and then, softly lifting the latch of the door, he slipped out into the night. When Mrs. Brown reached home, her husband sat reading his paper in the kitchen. He looked up as she en- tered. Traces of tears were on her cheeks; her eyes shone with excite- ment. Oh, Lijah, I do so wish youd gone ! she began tremulously. Oh, Lijah!and she sank down in the rocking chair and burst into weep- ing. The deacons paper shook a little as he folded it up and laid it on the table. You go to bed, Sarah Jane, said he mildly. Its ten oclock. Mrs. Brown rose and began taking off her bonnet. It was wonderful, just wonderful, Lijah! an I do wish you werent a distiller. I shall always feel wicked about it after this. The deacon made no reply. Mrs. Brown, in spite of her excitement, wondered at his silence, which was almost gentle. After his wife was asleep, Deacon Brown rose softly, dressed himself, and stole out upon the porch. He had wrapped a blanket about him and did not feel the chilly autumn air. By and by the moon rose over the orchard. The long shadows crept across the grass. Not a sound broke the intense stillness. Every light had long vanished from the neighbors windows. On the hill the black mass of the distillery was outlined against the sky. The deacons eyes were fixed upon it. It stood to him for wealth, for importance, for aristoc- racy. Men felt his influence because he owned it. He was a kind of king among the simple folk about him. His father had built it. His father had been a deacon, too, and no one was more honored than he. He had helped support every good work. The very pulpit of the church had been paid for out of the proceeds of the whiskey he manufactured. Murderer, that man had said. The deacon shivered. It was an ugly word. Yet there was Widow Coons son dead at thirty of drink; and there was poor Andy Rounds, an idiot be- cause his father had thrown him down stairs in a drunken rage; and Willy Dare was in the penitentiary because he had killed a man at that barn rais- ing. And all the whiskey that wrought this evil he or his father had made. The deacon moved restlessly on his chair as he thought of it. His Puritan conscience was awake at last. All that night he sat on the porch, wrestling with himself; but when the first sunbeams shone over the orchard the deacon rose. His decision was reached. His wife came out as he turned to go indoors. Why, Deacon, whats the matter? You look as if you hadnt slept a wink. Been up long ? she inquired. Well, considerable long, Sarah Jane. But that dont matter. I might as well tell you I was at that lecture last night. Oh, Deacon! exclaimed his wife, beginning to cry; but he hastily con- tinued: I aint goin to make no more whiskey. I do things accordin 342 ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. to my lights, an Im convinced whiskeys a bad thing. Now, Sarah Jane, you get the chores done up early. Im goin to have aakind of a party to-night ; and smiling grimly at his wifes bewilderment, he strode into the house. After breakfast the deacon har- nessed his horses and drove up to the door. Sarah Jane, perhaps I wont get back to dinner, he called. Im going to drive around the hill, and Ill get a bite somewheres. Now, Deacon, just wait till I put you up one, remonstrated his wife from the window. She hastily pulled the dough from her fingers and washed her hands at the sink. I wont be a minute. Theres corn beef and doughnuts and cheese, I know, and pie, I guess. Anyhow, do wait till I see. No, cant stop, called the deacon brusquely as he started his horses. His business was pressin~r. He drove along the road in the September morning. The trees were turning a little, though there had been no frost. The leaves were ripening in the strong sunshine; a few had fallen to the ground. The lavender asters grew thickly along the roadside; the pun- gent smell of sweet fern rose strongly; a golden dust powdered everything; the grasshoppers sprang into the air. The deacon was tired after his long vigil, and he dozed a little as the horses slowly trotted down the level road. At John Howes he pulled up. The farmer was gathering his pota- toes; but he dropped his fork as he heard the deacons hail and came to the fence. Say, John, began the deacon slowly, I want you to co.me up to my house to-day bout five. Whats up? inquired the farmer. Youll see, replied his neighbor calmly, but with meaning. Farmer Howe selected a long spear of grass from the fence corner, and, dropping his arms on the top rail, settled himself for a visit. Say, Deacon, he began, youd ought to have gone to the temperance lecture last night. Cant stop to talk now, replied the deacon, touching up his horses. See you to-night ; and he disap- peared down the road. He drove from one house to an- other, giving to each man the same invitation: Come up to my house bout five to-day, and before he could get away each neighbor said: Say, Deacon, youd ought to have been at that lecture last night! Deacon Brown hardly knew whether to be amused or annoyed; but he kept his own counsel until he had made the tour of the neighbor- hood and, returning, stopped at all the doors at the Corners. The last house was the ministers; and here he alighted and tied his horses. They stood long before the door, and when the deacon appeared at last they neighed hungrily. Home now, boys ! he said as he untied them and with an almost youthful lightness climbed into the wagon. At sunset the farmers began to gather at Deacon Browns. They met on the roadside on their way. and each one asked of the other: Whats up at the deacons ? But no one knew. Mrs. Brown received them trem- blingly at the doorway and gave them seats on the porch. The deacon was dignified in his Sunday coat, and re- served in his demeanor. A solemn and mysterious atmosphere brooded over him. At last the minister came through the gate. Deacon Brown stepped forward to meet him, and they whispered together for a mo- ment. Then turning to his neighbors he said: Brethren, let us walk up to the distillery ; and with the min- ister he headed the little procession. There was something funereal in its appearance as it wound its way up the little ascent. The sun was just setting as they reached the top. The landscape lay in a golden light; the fields were bare of grain; but the or- ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. 343 chards bent under the weight of their fruit. The cows were going home and the tinkle of their bells rose on every side. The huge distillery stood before them, its doors and windows closed, its fires out. The deacon turned and faced his neighbors, who stood in curious silence. Brethren, he began, clearing his throat, you all know me. Man arid boy, Ive lived here for moren sixty years. You knew my father before me, and you knew he was a good man. An Ive tried to be a good man, too, cording to my lights. Ive been a deacon in this church for thirty years, an if Ive wronged any man I aint never known it. I was brought up to think whiskey-makin was a good, honest business, an Ive tried to be fair in all my dealings in it. The dea- con hesitated and cleared his throat again. Speechmaking was a new ex- perience to him, and the words did not come easily. But last night, he continued, I was to the temperance lecture, an I guess I got a new light. I came home, an I sat on that porch, pointing down to the house at the foot of the hill,on that porch, all night, an I thought an thought, an I concluded that whiskey-makins a bad thing. Im a God-fearing man, an I aint a-goin to do wrong if II know it. So, brethren, I asked you all to come up here to-day an hear me. Im a deacon in the church, an if Ive done wrong Im goin to say so right out. An now if Mr. Cole wants to give out a hymn, he can, an Ill show you one and all I mean what I say; The ministers voice rose quaver- ingly: Praise God from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him all creatures here below, and the deacon advanced to the distil- lery and flung open the great front door. The farmers craned their necks. Whispers ran from one to the other. Whats he goin to do? they asked excitedly. In an instant the deacon reappeared from the darkness into which he had vanished, rolling a barrel before him. The doxology came to an end. In a tense silence the deacon raised a heavy hatchet and struck blow after blow upon the head of the barrel as it lay on the grass. The liquor gushed out, its strong odor filling the air. A long-drawn breath burst from the neighbors. The deacon turned and went into the distillery again. Blest be the tie that binds, sang the minister, and a voice here and there rose with his; but most of the farmers stood in a dazed silence. Mrs. Brown sobbed. Barrel after barrel rolled through the open door and was emptied upon the hillside. The deacons face was wet with perspiration and his breath came quickly, but he did not speak. Farmer Howe came forward to help him, but was sternly waved away. Finally the last remaining barrel was broken. The brown stream ceased to flow; the hatchet dropped from the deacons hand. Mr. Cole raised his hand. Let us pray, he said. The next day was Sunday. The little church was filled to overflowing. Deacon Brown could not resist the glow of exultation which swept over him as he noticed the nudges his neighbors gave one another as he passed down the aisle with the plate. He was a hero, and the knowledge of that fact warmed his heart and up- lifted his head. Mr. Cole preached on the man of principle. What we need to-day, sai(l he, are the men who will not sacrifice their convictions for money. There are men, yes, even here in our little village, who regard principle more than wealth; who will give up their income rather than do wrong. Brethren, let us honor such; let us strive to imitate the noble example they set us. Deacon Brown gazed steadily at Mr. Cole and tried to feel humble, but 344 ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. only succeeded in feeling self-con- scious. The next few weeks were filled with a like delightful embarrassment. When the deacon went to the grocery or the post office, men spoke respect- fully and women gazed at him rev- erently. Truly in his case the re- ward of virtue was full and satisfying. But the presidential election was coming on, and feeling at the Corners waxed high. In a short space the deacon found his affairs had ceased to occupy the public mind. He joined in the talk of politics, but his heart was sore. As time passed, things be- came still harder. His sacrifice seemed fo~rgotten. Even the minister no longer alluded to his noble conduct when they met. Time hung heavy on his hands. He had led an active life, and now, with the farm work over for the year and the distillery empty and silent, the long gray days seemed endless. Aint the deacon well? inquired Mrs. Henderson one day, as she came in to borrow a cup of molasses. Hes lookin kind of peaked. I was sayin to Hosea this mornin, he makes me think of his father. You know how he went. He just dropped down one day and died in his tracks. Id give him some thoroughwort, if I was you, Mrs. Brown. Aint you well, Deacon? repeated his wife anxiously at dinner time, as her husband pushed away his plate with half his pie untouched. Well? I guess Im well enough, replied her husband grimly. Dont you bother, Sarah Jane. Mrs. Brown sighed. The deacon certainly did look old. She said that afternoon as she wiped the dinner dishes: Dear me, the days seem so long! Dont you wish another lec- turer would come along to sort o hearten us up, Deacon? Dont you talk of lecturers to me! II cant says Im altogether glad that temperance lecturer ever come to the Corners. I d know but what I was hasty in what I done, he said, gazing gloomily out of the window. It was beginning to snow and the gray land- scape looked cheerless. His wife dropped the cup she was wiping with a crash on the kitchen floor. Why, Lijah 1 she gasped. Why, what on earth But the deacon had left the kitchen and had closed the door after him with a bang. The winter dragged itswearylength and came to an end at last. With the first days of spring, Deacon Brown began like his neighbors to plough and sow his fields, but his heart was not in his work. As he plodded along behind his plough, his eyes were fixed on his distillery. I said I wouldnt, and I wont, he repeated doggedly to himself. But I wish that old temperance lec- turerd been in Guinea fore he ever come to the Corners. As if to deride the deacon, the grain crop was never so heavy as this year. The waving corn flaunted itself in his face as he drove through the country- side. There was small market for it in the vicinity, and the farmers were puzzled to know how to dispose of their crops. Now if the deacons distillery was only runnin, said John Howe to his wife, wed get a fair price for our corn. As it is, I dont see how Han- nahs goin back to school in Bowden nohow. His wife sighed. But, John, you wouldnt have the deacon do wrong, would you? she inquired hesitatingly. If twasnt for that old temperance lecturer, began her husband,but shocked at his own temerity he sub- sided into silence. In spite of the abundance every- where, everybody felt poor. At church the deacon felt that he was looked at almost with aversion. He seemed surrounded by an atmosphere of blame. He knew no rest. His wife grew more and more uneasy about him. He tossed restlessly at night; his appetite failed, yet he sternly re- fused to take the thoroughwort tea she brewed for him. In the hot sum- ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. 345 mer evenings he sat on the porch wearied with his days work, and gazed in silence at the distillery on the hill. Why had he been such a fool? he asked himself in silence; but not a word escaped his firm-set lips. The corn was cut and stacked in the fields; the threshing machines moved from one farmers to anothers, and the grain filled the bursting barns. One night the deacon sat alone on the porch, watching the harvest moon rise over the hill. His heart was heavy. Could he endure another ~Tinter like the last? He frowned as if in physical pain as he remembered the wearisome days. The house was very quiet. The deacons wife had slipped down through the lot to in- quire after Mrs. Hendersons rheu- matism. It was just a year ago that that temperance lecturer was here. I wish Id never seen the fellow, murmured the deacon between his set teeth. If twasnt for my word, Id open up that distillery to-morrow. Taint the money, Ive got enough, but the farm- ers round here need it. Whatll they do with all their grain, Id like to know? I guess theyd be glad enough to see the smoke go up from that old still to-morrow. The deacon groaned in actual tor- ment. For a year he had been tossed by conflicting feelings. He had had a Puritan training, and his conscience, once aroused, would not easily sleep again. On the other hand, fighting hard was his inherited belief in the righteousness of his business. His economical life .made the waste of the crops and the idleness of his machin- ery seem sinful, and the need the farm- ers about him felt for the ready money with which he had so long supplied them appealed to him strongly. The peaceful August night brought him no soothing influence. The fragrant silence, the glorious splendor of the moonlight, appealed to him in vain. His soul was in a fer- ment. Suddenly he started. A thought had darted across his brain the thought of a compromise which would solve the problem. He leaned forward in his chair, a clinched hand on either knee; a frown of intense thought across his forehead. At last he raised his head with a deep sigh of relief. Ill do it! he said as he raised his hand and brought it down again on the arm of his chair with a heavy blow. Ill do it to-morrow! The next morning the deacon passed his cup for a second supply of coffee. Seems to me these dough- nuts are extra good, Sarah Jane, he said cheerfully, as he took a third. I wish youd have griddle cakes for supper to-night. I dont know when weve had griddle cakes, and Id kind o like some.~~ Why, Lijah, xve had them twice last week, and you said you never did care much for them, replied his as- tonished wife. Well, I aint had much appetite lately, said the deacon. I guess the weathers gettin cooler, and that counts for my being sort of hungry now. You do me up a lunch, Sarah Jane; Im goin to drive around the hill, an Ill like as not be late gettin home. What has come over the deacon? thought his wife in perplexity as he drove out of the yard. I do know when Ive seen him in such spirits. Hes been feelin bad for a whole year past. Im thankful enough to see him chirk up again. Hes got some plan in his mind; I see that plain enough. What ever can it be? The deacon drove briskly down the road, glancing at the orchards as he passed. Finest crop I ever did see, he chuckled to himself. Why didnt I think of it before? Apple-jack aint whiskey, an I aint breakin no prom- ises. Father made apple-jack an peach brandy an all those things. I wonder I aint ever thought of it. The still wont go to waste now. Ill buy all the apples in the county round an store them in the loft. 346 ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. Theyll keep all winter, an Ill get new barrels an kegs, an have all I can do. He smiled to himself joyfully. Farmer Howe greeted his neighbor a trifle stiffly. He was paying rather heavily for the deacons moral supe- riority. Morning, John, began Deacon Brown cheerfully. Hows apples selling this year? Apples? Well, I d know. I aint thought much about them. By the time theyre picked and packed and sent to the city they cost moren they come to. I d know as Ill bother much with them. The deacon cleared his throat. Would John Howe see things as he saw them? Well, John, Ill take your crop if you want to sell. I calkilate to open up the still again. I aint a-goin to make Whiskey any .more; but apple- jack, now,why, thats different. Farmer Howe pushed his hat back on his head with a bewildered air. Apple-jack! why, aint that brandy? he inquired. Well, its kind o like brandy, re- turned the deacon, a trifle, embar- rassed; but its a gdod thing. For sickness, now, it beats everything. But you settle about your apples, John, an send them up bright an early Monday, for Ill get things goin by then ; and the deacon drove away. If that dont beat the Dutch! ex- claimed the farmer as he gazed down the road. Apple-jacks worse than whiskey any day. But as he walked to the orchard and reckoned up the barrels he should need by Monday, a glow of pleasure filled his mind. I guess Hannah can go to Bow- den, after all, he said to his wife. Ive sold my apples. Everywhere the deacon met the same reception. The farmers were glad to sell their apple crops, although they were rather shocked at his lack of consistency. I thought twouldnt last, sneered Farmer Parson as he glanced approv- ingly at his heavily laden boughs. He was too good all of a sudden. Wonder what the minister will say ? Guess hes forgotten how bad he felt a year ago, said Farmer Welling to his wife. He sticks by his prom- ise, but hes goin to make liquor all the same. Whiskey or apple-jacks all one inmy opinion; but taint for.me to~ decide,an its a good thing theres such a big crop of apples this year.~~ Rumors began to reach the min- ister that the distillery was about to start up; but he gave them little cre- dence. Yet on Sunday he glanced rather anxiously at Deacon Brown as he passed the plate. He saw that his face was brighter than for a long time. Hes a good man. He shows that he has an approving conscience, the minister thought to himself. Yet he noticed that the farmers spoke more cordially to the deacon after church and with greater familiarity than he had ever seen before, and in spite of himself he was a little trou- bled. Evidently something had hap- pened of which he was ignorant. On Monday morning loads of ap- ples began to appear from all direc- tions and were driven toward Deacon Browns. The minister was puzzled as he saw them. He walked out to his gate and looked in that direction. Smoke was coming from the distil- lery; barrels were being unloaded at the great door; the yard was full of wagons. The minister stood at his gate a long time, unable to believe what he saw. At length he turned and walked sadly into his study and shut the door. That evening, after his day of hard work, Deacon Brown was tired. He sat on his porch and rocked idly back and forth, while his wife wiped the supper dishes. She was tremulous with excitement and doubt. Was the deacon doing right? What would Mrs. Henderson say? The deacon looked up as the min- ister opened the gate. He frowned to himself and then advanced to meet him. Good evenin, parson, he said ACCORDING TO HIS LIGHT. 347 loudly, with ~i show of great cordial- ity. Come right up on the porch. Fine evenin, aint it? A beautiful evening, a beautiful evening, answered the minister ab- sently, as he sat down. He was fac- ing the distillery, and he sighed as he looked at it. Deacon Brown, will you tell me what this means? he began as sternly as his gentle nature would allow. A year ago you renounced this business. You vowed never to engage in it again. What am I to think of your principles when I see this distillery at work? Gently, Mr. Cole, gently, replied the deacon testily. Im breakin no vows. I said Id make no more whis- key, an I wont. No, sir, I stick by my word, if it costs me all the money Ive got. But, parson,and he laid his hand on the ministers knee and spoke with great earnestness,Ive been watchin this thing a year, an Ive come to the conclusion I was too hasty. Whiskey aint a good thing, an some peoples hurt by it. But, parson, see here. Look at ~ll the farmers round about who cant sell their grain this fall. Aint they hurt too? I tell you, everybodys poor since my still shut down. Every man of em would be glad to have me start makin whiskey to-morrow. But Im a man of my word, an I said to myself as I thought about it, No, no more whiskeys made in that still !and there wont be till doomsday. But, parson, I cant abide waste, an theres that building, good for nothing else, an its just droppin to pieces. I dont call that right. That aint using the talents intrusted to us! An then, theres the apple crops all around. Did you ever see such a yield? No, nor nobody elsetheres that all goin to waste. That aint right, I say. The fruits of the earth was made to be used. An then the farmers need the money I give em. Why, it means clothes an schoolin to the children! Theyve always looked to my father and to me to take their crops, an its just defraudin them of their rights to keep that distillery shut. An then I feel I aint honorin my parents, to say what my father did was wrong. He was a good man, an he done what he thought was right. I aint goin to say he was mistaken. The deacon drew himself up and looked virtuously at the ministers troubled face. What I always say is, Go by your lights! an Im doin it, he continued. Yes, sir, Im doin it. If that temperance lecturer hadnt come here disturbin everybody, Id be making whiskey to-day with a clear conscience. But I aint goin back on my word. No more whiskey will I ever make. But apple-jack is different, an Im goin into that business ; and the deacon shut his mouth firmly and gazed at the minister. Mr. Cole was greatly disturbed. Brother, he began at last, ~~vou know theres such a thing as a per- verted conscience. Are you sure you are entitled to say you are being guided by the highest motives in your new undertaking? Sure, parson, perfectly sure, re- plied the deacon cheerfully. I go accordin to my lights, and I think whiskey-makins wrong for me,you understand, for me,because I gave my word; but apple-jack, now,ap- ple-jacks all right. The minister rose and took his cane. Deacon Brown, Ive no more to say, he said sadly. I interfere with no mans conscience. But I hope you are perfectly sincere in this. Remember the position you hold in the church ; the eyes of all are on you. Dont you worry, Mr. Cole, re- plied the deacon as he walked to the gate with his visitor. My minds clear on the subject. If we all go accordin to our lights, its all that can be expected of us,an Im goin by mine. The minister walked slowly down the road. His hero was but a man after all, a man with everyday weak- nesses. It was a severe blow. Deacon Brown looked after the re 348 THE PHANTOM GUEST. treating figure. The minister gets freeze till after all the crop is in. old fast, he said. A younger man Therell be enough for twenty barrels might be better for the people. The to-morrow ;and he went into the air feels a little frosty. I hope twont house. THE PHANTOM GUEST. By William Herbert Carrutis. W E pull together in the yoke Of duty, neither shirking; long to praise that heart of oak, But shrink, and keep on working; Yet oft I think what I should feel And say, should aught betide him, If he were lying cold and still And I stood warm beside him. We two are rivals in the race; He wins the prize I covet; I hate him frankly, and lack grace To keep my hear~t above it; Yet hate would be a tale thats told, And gladly Id abide him, If he were lying still and cold And I stood warm beside him. He walks another path from mine; I find him soft and callow; Whateer he venture to opine I straight condemn as shallow; Much more in common I should hold, Less readily deride him, If he were lying still and cold And I stood warm beside him. Tis years that we have been estranged, Well-nigh forgot the reason; All but our cursed pride has changed, Changed with the changing season; Yet I could weep for him until His numb, dumb heart should chide him, If he were lying cold and still And I stood warm beside him. How many hates would be as not, How many wrongs be righted, Kind words be spoken, now forgot, Deeds done that now are slighted, If each man had, like them of old, This phantom guest to guide him, His fellow lying still and cold, Himself all warm beside him! To vary Miltons phrase, he that would not be frustr te of his hope to write well of Leicester should have its free air blowing in his lungs, and in his bones the limestone of its hills, if any such there be. For one not to the manner born to set out upon this venture may well remind him of the fine old English admiral who said, I have taken that in hand which I know not how to accom- plish. Bnt if I may not wholly jus- tify my assumption of this task, I can at least answer the question of the Western spoilsman, What are we here for ? in such a manner as may perhaps extenuate my fault. I was drawn to Leicester by my interest in Rev. Samuel May, and my first idea was to put my sketch of him in a gen- eral Leicester setting. Preparing for this business, I became every day more interested in the history of the town. It would be interesting to know how many New England towns have been compared to Jerusalem of old as beautiful for situation ; and, hill-set as many of them are, the description is perfectly appropriate in many in- stances, thoug~h, if it were not, it would be easy to condone so genial an offence as the exaggeration of the beauty of a much loved spot. But not even Chesterfield, where every year I Summer high upon the hills of God, deserves better the proverbial praise than Leicester,understanding by this designation preeminently Leices- ter Hill, the centre of the town, in early times generally called Straw- berry Hill, and still so called by 349 THE TOWN OF LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. By John White Chadwick. 350 LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. CAREY many whom old names and pleasant names attract, though by what straw- berry mark identified as such I do not know. Such is the sitnation of the town, on the ridge from which falls away the water-shed of central Massachu- setts, 1,607 feet above the sea, that some of its waters flow into the Con- necticut, others into the Blackstone, and still others into the Thames. The Great Road to Spencer (Boston and Albany stage road) and the same road eastward of the hill separates two ot these sources from each other by the roads bare width. The town is well supplied with ponds and streams, sev- eral of the former made by the dam- ming of the larger streams for mill power and to make reservoirs of water for domestic use. There are no lofty hills, but many pleasant ones from which to look abroad. Moose Hill, in the northwest corner, is one of the highest. Bald Hill, in the Cherry Valley section of the town, gets its name from the fact that it had been cleared and cultivated before the white settlers came. Mount Pleas- ant, about a mile west from the cen- tre, is celebrated as the location of a. once lordly pleasure-house, one of whose owners, James Swan, had a HILL. pathetic history. During his. resi- dence in Leicester he was a great na- bob; but, meeting with reverses, he went to Paris, where, in 1830, upon the opening of the debtors prison by the revolutionists, he was released after having occupied the same cell thirty-two years and a day. Carey Hill, a mile north of the meeting- house, has also its tradition, at the other extreme from that of Mount Pleasant. Here, it is said, the first settlers found one of their own blood living a hermit life in a miserable cave, whether fearing the cruel mercies of the red men less than the temptations of a civilized society, or crazed with hopeless love, we are not told. The present township, which is smaller than the settlers part of the original grant by two miles sliced from its northern part to help make the town of Paxton, and 2,500 acres taken from its southeast to help make the town of Auburn, is forty-eight miles from Boston and six west of the new town of the English, called Worcesterso described in the orig- inal grant. From time to time there have developed closer aggregations within the limits of the town, which probably to those who constitute LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. 35 them are of more importance than the Hill; and they are certainly able to ontvote it when they combine their strength. These settlements are known as Cherry Valley, which is some two miles from the Hill; Rochdale, formerly named Clappville for Joshua Clapp, an enterprising mannfactnrer, by whom its mill privileges were developed; Mann- ville, of like origin, which has grown up aronnd the first of sev- eral mills on Kettle Brook; and above Rochdale on the same water, Greenville, whereby hangs an in- teresting tale of its fonnder, Cap- tain Samuel Green, and his family. Lakeside, west of the centre, is another m a nnfactnring village which originated some fifty years ago in THE SARGENT HOUSE. ~he enterprise of D. Waldo Kent, whose works have prospered in the lands of his posterity. Mulberry ~rove, in the north part of the town, rot its name in 1827 from the plant- ng in that section of mulberry trees with a view to growing silkworms) y Pliny Earle, the father of the amons alienist. The craze for this mltnre was at one time widespread, )nt it met with no snccess. The original township lay in the ieart of the region thinly occnpied y the Nipmnc Indians, from whom he nine original proprietors in 1786 secnred it by fair pnrchase. Thus, naively, the local annalist, who goes on to state the snm givenfifteen ponnds, New England money! Other proprietors were soon associated with the original nine, and the names were generally those well known and mnch distingnished in colonial affairs. Samuel Rnggles was grandfather of the Tory briga- dier Timothy Ruggles of un- happy fame. Jere- miah Dummer wrote a Defence of the New Eng- land Charters, and did other memorable things. Paul Dudley was a son of Governor Joseph Dudley, and Dr. DeNormandie has told his interesting story in the pages of this magazine.* His youngest brother, William, was another mem- ber of the company, and still another was Samuel Sewall, who married a daughter of Governor Dudley. Thomas Hutchinson was the father of the royalist Governor Hutchin- son, and, like him, a worthy gentle- man. These and the others consti- tuted a kind of family party by much intermarrying. They undertook in 1713 to settle fifty families in the township within seven years. Re- serving to themselves lots of one thousand acres each, the proprietors proceeded to cut the remaining ter * See illustrated article on The Roxhury Latin School, by James DeNormandie in the NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE for June, 5895; also article on Paul Dudley by Francis B. Hornbrooke, January, 5896. by Parkman T. Denny. LEICESTER AND LAKE SARGENT FROM MOUNT PLEASANT. LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. 353 ritory up into house lots of thirty, forty and fifty acres, with after rights of one hundred outlying acres for each ten in the house lots. The most desirable parts were the Meadows, naturally clear of woods, now the least valuable parts, except as they are flooded to get water power. The settlement was slow, and in 1724 there were only thirty- seven persons to engage in the exe- cution of the deed by which the proprietors conveyed the eastern por- tions of the town to the actual set- tlers. By this deed the connection of the eastern and western parts of the town was practically dissolved, the western part, as Spencer,. initiating a history of its own, which has been honorable, and never more so than in its latest years. Among the signers of the deed we find the names of fami- lies that have since been prominent and distinguished in the annals of the town; these for examples: Denny, Green, Earle, Henshaw, Southgate, Sargent and Livermore. It is not often that a group of names like these stands for so much continuous sig- nificance in the life of a community. But there are many others of whom not so much even as honorable men- tion can be made in my allotted space. The early history of any old New England town is almost exclusively ecclesiastical. That of Leicester is so to a pre~minent degree, and in the main its earliest ecclesiastical affairs were full of trouble and anxiety. It is said of happy nations that they have no histories, and it is equally true of happy parishes. There is nothing like a parish quarrel to brighten up the records of town meetings at a time when the town and parish lived an undivided life. The bad blood engendered by these quar- rels has been the seed of the church in one respect as the blood of the martyrs has not; it has been more prolific of new church organizations than any other source. Strangely enough in Leicester it did not have this operation. The minister over whom the battle raged, like that of Greeks and Trojans on the windy plain, was Rev. David Parsons, who was called in 1720, the parish feeling itself unworthy of so great a bless- ing as his acceptance of its call. He came; but so did not his salary when due, after the fading of the first flush of enthusiasm from the parochial sky. In 1726 it was two years in arrears. The next year it was voted that the town be willing that Mr. Parsons should remove and remain out of the town. That was certainly eupho- nious; but Mr. Parsons, unlike Barkis in the story, was not willing. He memorialized the Legislature, and the town took measures for upholding the orderly and peaceable ministration of the gospel, and begged the Legis- lature to relieve it from Mr. Par- sonss bondage. But he had his friends and they were active and in- genious. The intricacies of this mis- erable business for a dozen years cannot be followed here. In 1735 Mr. Parsonss connection with the par- ish was dissolved and he went to Belchertown, whence he shot back at his enemies such Parthian arrows as legal actions against the town. He died in 1743, having in the mean time returned to Leicester, and was buried by his express command in his own field, preferring that his dust should not be mingled with that of the saints who had tormented him. In a room of the town library set apart for an antiquarian and historical collection there is now preserved the gravestone of this unhappy man, of one piece with his wifes, fit symbol of indissoluble love. It has had a checkered history. About 1830 some thrifty proprietor of the original glebe economized it for the covering of an ash-pit in the construction of a chim- ney. So used, like Mr. Parsons in his lifetime, it must have been often in hot water; and saved, as by fire, it was luckier than many Leicester folk imagined his post-mortem state. Apparently it was not disturbed in 354 LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. i86i, when it was discovered in this unique position, fortunately face down, so that the inscription was not effaced. It runs: In Memory of the Rev4 Mr. David Parsons, who, after many years of hard labor & suffer- ing, was laid here Oct. ye 12th, A. D. 1743, Aged 63 years. In 1887 the stone found its way into the cellar of the Congregational Church, where it was singularly out of place. On the rough part which was inserted in the ground there are certain mystical characters, which seem to tell what pounds and shillings went for this ex- pensive monument of an impecunious life. At this point a few words about the original meeting-house ought not to come amiss. It was not by any means a house of cedar, and if it had been under curtains it would have been hardly less protected from the winds that blow on Leicester Hill. It had doors, but no doorsteps, so that to ascend into His holy place was difficult. There were no pews, but pew-grounds were sold, that those who wished to build pews might do so. The deacons pew was built at the expense of the parish for twelve shillings, and for that price could not have been so luxurious as to invite to slumber in the blaze of Mr. Parsonss fulmination s. There were no galleries at first, but they were introduced after much difference of opinion and delay. In 1743 it was voted to have a new ru/f upon the Meet- ing House and to make an ad- dition of twelve feet the whole length of the back. It was so done, but the original up- rights were left standing to remind the faithful of the days of smaller things. Mr. Goddard, who succeeded Mr. Parsons, was not a cheerful saint, but a good man on whom the parish rested gratefully from its labors with the first incumbent. He was or- dained in 1736 and died in 1754. Jan- uary 28, 1743, he wrote to Deacon John Whittemore: Sir, These are (in ye bitterness of my soul) to let you know yt I have dreadful apprehension of my having deceived my- self, & yt really I am but a hypocrite & have no right in ye sight of God to minis- ter in holy thingsand, therefore, I de- sire you not to prepare the Sacrament. IN MEMORY OF REV. DAVID PARSONS. A CORNER OF THE OLD BURYING GROUND. LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. 355 Pray sir, do not be displeased with me, for I dare not do otherwise than I do. If you have an interest in ye throne of grace be earne t in prayer for me, & for the poor Cch & people in this place. All these things Deacon Whitte- more seems to have kept in his heart, and let us hope he comforted and re- assured the minister in his sore dis- tress. The Rev. Joseph Roberts, settled in 1754, was sordid and avaricious. His letter of acceptance was prophetic of his whole career. How nice the social gauge which could discover that in a class of twenty-five he ranked in dignity of family twenty- second. Dismissed in 1762, he died, as he had lived, like a beggar, leaving bags of money in his house, the bags so rotten with age and neglect that they could not hold the coin. Good fortune followed his departure from the town in the person of Benjamin Conklin, who was minister in Leices- ter from 1763 to 1794, and lived for sixteen years on the spot now beauti- ful with the late home of Rev. Samuel May, and in the house which. was re- moved when Mr. May built the pres- ent one in 1835. Mr. Conklin was an ardent patriot in the Revolutionary period, one of the local Committee of Correspondence, enjoying the sym- pathy of his congregation and espe- cially that of its leading men; but at the time of Shayss Rebellion, which he honestly opposed, he was hardly safe in his own house. He lies in the old burying ground in expcctatione MAIN STREET IN WINTER AND SUMMER. ?56 LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. THE CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH. dici supremi, as it is graven on the stone, with the addition, Qualis erar, dies iste indicabit. The limits of this article do not permit me to follow up the line of his successors; but I should not be for- given if I made no mention of Dr. John Nelson, the sixth pastor of the church, who was settled in 1812 and held the fort for nearly sixty years, having, from 1857 until 1871, the Rev. Amos H. Coolidge for his col- league. He exercised a deep and abiding influence on his church and on the community. It is said that there were 1,200 sleighs on and around the Common on the day of his ordination. His colleague and successor, on the contrary, was or- dained in a tumultuous privacy of storm,a blizzard, on April 21, 1857, only surpassed by the recent storm of November 29, 1898, which Rev. Samuel May thought the most tremendous in his sixtyfour years~ experience of Leicestei~ weather. One who knew Dr. Nelson well writes of him as the best type of the old-time country minister, settled for life and sharing every scene in the life of his people, from the cradle to the grave; well educated, well read, the associate of public men and interested in pub- lic affairs, a good writer, with an elo- quent delivery, invariably preaching short sermons, Always, says an- other, speaking from his personal recollection, just twenty minutes long. The segregation from his flock of the Leicester Unitarians, in 1833, was the most painful circum- stance of his career; but not even that could rouse in him a controversial spirit. His temper was much softer than his creed; and to Baptists, Episcopalians and Roman Catholics he extended the right hand of fellow- ship in a manner exceptionally cordial for his day. A new church was built in 1784, with square pews and the seats made with hinges, as was common, so as to give more room when the worship- pers stood up. Given five or six sep- arate seats in every pew, when all were dropped at onceslam bang! the effect must have been prodigious. No wonder that a visitor from Phila- delphia thought the house was com- ing down about his ears and started for the door. When, in 1826, a belfry and steeple were added, the church was moved back so as to cover a part of the burying ground, in which were several graves. Whether the sleepers in them henceforth stirred or slept more soundly has not been divulged. The present church, built in 1867, gave early promise of that success in architecture which the Norcross brothers have since attained. Leices- ter has in its Public Library a fine example of their later manner. Mr. Coolidge resigned in 1894 and was succeeded by the present minister, Rev. David C. Reid. September 28, i888, the Greenville Baptist Church celebrated the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary, and the printed record of the celebration is one of exceptional interest. Its first pastor was Dr. Thomas Green, a son of Captain Samuel Green, the founder of the local settlements. At 357 358 LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. SAMUEL MAY. first a doctor, and a preacher only by second intention, many of his de- scendants have had a predilection for medicine (for giving it), and the pres- ent Dr. John Green of St. Louis is one of the most distinguished oph- thalmologists in the country. His brother, Samuel S. Green, is one of the best known and most efficient li- brarians in the conntry; and the li- brary which he directs (Worcester Free Public Library) originated in the benefaction of his uncle, Dr. John Green of Worce& - ter, third of the name. Dr. Thomas Green seems to have been ex- tremely versatile. Besides being doctor and preach- er, he ran the m eeting-house; and a record of 1747what a genial latitude the spelling of that time enjoyed !runs thus: At a properrietes meeting of the Baptis church it was voted that every man that has a pue shall pay the elder Thomas Green for the huilding of his pue. The story of Thomas Greens coming to Leicester with his father, and being left alone in the wilderness to tend his fathers cattle, is one of the most pathetic in the history of the town. A church with such fore- bears is under bonds to have an honorable history, and here it has been as it ought to be. In 1732 Ralph Earle and his three sons declared them- selves to the town clerk to be Friends. In 1739 the first meet- ing-house was built in the Earle neighborhood,a low, one- story building, twenty by twenty-two feet,and this served until 1791, when a larger one was built in a secluded and singularly attractive situation, where great trees of the primeval forest cast their shade. This building no longer exists, and there is not at this writing (1898) known to be a Friend in town. One of the last was Pliny Earle, the dis- tinguished alienist, whose life Mr. Frank B. Sanborn of Concord has recently written with much sympa- thy and understanding. Dr. Earle, whose best work was done after 1864 as chief of the Northampton Insane THE MAY HOMESTEAD. LEICES TEN, MASSACHUSETTS. 359 Asylum, was a many-sided man, very genial and playful, a flaneur of wide experi- ence, a diarist whose memoirs will prove very serviceable to fu- ture students of our social man- ners. He was a generous bene- factor of the Leicester Library, though he did more for one in North am p t o n. His family, of which he wrote an elaborate gene- alogy, was strong in many ways. The Leicester Friends were recruited from it largely. So were the early manufacturers. From 1827 until 1839 there was a Mulberry Grove School, which disputed with the lo- cal Academy the honor of being the best institution of learning in that part of the state. It was conducted by the sisters of Dr. Pliny Earle. The mother, Patience Buffum, was a sister of Arnold Buffum, one of Garrisons right-hand men, described by Tho- reau as looking like a pier-head made of the cork tree, with the bark on; and the family generally were strong abolitionists. Thomas Earle of Penn- sylvania, a brother of Pliny, was the THE ACADEMY. first vice-presidential candidate of the Liberty party in 1840. The anti- slavery strength of Worcester county was rooted deeply in the soil of Mul- berry Grove. When the elder Pliny Earle married Patience Buffum, he made no mistake. She was born to be a mother of men. Like Mary, the mother of Washington, a much inferior woman, she smoked her pipe with calm complacency. The Episcopal Church in Leicester (Rochdale) is ten years older than the LTnitarian, dating from 1823 and illustrating the progress which the Epis- copalians have made everywhere among us of late years,much, per- haps, because the noble character of Phillips Brooks has been counted unto them for righteousness, but also because religion has been stead- ily growing more formal and senti- mental and less dogmatic. St. Thomass, in Cherry Valley, is a thrifty offshoot of this church. The Unitarian Society originated in 1832-33, and its conservative char- acter is indicated by the fact that it was one of the last of the Unitarian churches which was formed by the THE WINSLOW RESIDENCE. 360 LEICESTER, MASSACHUSETTS. breaking away of a large body of in- The Methodist Chnrch, formerly finential citizens from the Congrega- represented by three different organ- tional Chnrch. It is probable that izations, growing ont of differences only Dr. Nelsons personality saved concerning slavery and chnrch organ- the main body of th