Bentham
{"WorkMasterId":6363,"WpPageId":281645,"ParentWpPageId":193819,"Slug":"bentham","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/john-stuart-mill/bentham/","RelativeUrl":"theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/john-stuart-mill/bentham/","HasFullText":true,"RawHtmlLength":319581,"CleanHtmlLength":264830,"Kicker":"Philosophy Work","Title":"Bentham","Deck":"Mill evaluates Bentham by preserving utilitarian reform while criticizing narrow psychology, thin moral imagination, and limited understanding of character.","BackLink":{"Text":"Back to John Stuart Mill","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/john-stuart-mill/"},"AuthorCard":{"Label":"Author","Title":"John Stuart Mill","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/john-stuart-mill/","MediaHref":"","ImageSrc":"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/john-stuart-mill-01-london-stereoscopic-c1870-portrait-1.jpg","ImageAlt":"John Stuart Mill by the London Stereoscopic Company, c. 1870","FilterTerra":"Western Europe","ClickText":"John Stuart Mill","ClickHref":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/john-stuart-mill/","Copies":["1806 CE – 1873 CE","Pentonville, London","English liberal utilitarian philosopher of liberty, individuality, higher pleasures, inductive logic, political economy, representative government, women\u0027s equality, religious skepticism, and empiricist method."]},"ContextCards":[{"Label":"Period","Key":"Period:4","Title":"Modern History","DateText":"1800 CE – 1944 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/"},{"Label":"Era","Key":"Era:11","Title":"Long 19th Century","DateText":"1870 CE – 1913 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/philosophers-of-the-long-19th-century/"},{"Label":"Composition","Title":"1838 CE","Url":"","DateText":""}],"DateNote":"Displayed as 1838 CE for the published essay.","GeoCards":[{"Label":"Region","Key":"Region:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita","Key":"TerraAvita:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita Region","Key":"TerraAvitaRegion:2"},{"Label":"Modern Country","Key":"Country:GBR:1"}],"OriginalTitle":"Bentham","Language":"English","DisciplineCards":[{"Label":"Primary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:ethics"},{"Label":"Secondary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:political-philosophy"}],"Tradition":"British empiricism; liberal utilitarianism; associationism; political economy; social reform","FullText":{"Title":"Full Text","Copy":"Full text from Project Gutenberg: Bentham Principles of Morals and Legislation .","Url":"","Label":"","Kicker":"","Cards":[]},"CoreThesis":["Mill evaluates Bentham by preserving utilitarian reform while criticizing narrow psychology, thin moral imagination, and limited understanding of character."],"Classification":{"AlternateTitles":"Essay on Bentham","KeyConcepts":"Bentham; utilitarianism; reform; character; moral psychology; happiness","Methodology":"Direct Mill work-cluster record based on SEP, IEP, Britannica, OLL Collected Works, Gutenberg/Wikisource surfaces, catalog records, and scholarship. No full text is imported.","Structure":"One work-cluster page with explicit integer display year, date note, evidence note, discipline mapping, and public source evidence. Serial publication and posthumous publication notes are documented without importing full text."},"Arguments":["Mill evaluates Bentham by preserving utilitarian reform while criticizing narrow psychology, thin moral imagination, and limited understanding of character."],"Influence":{"InfluencedBy":"James Mill, Jeremy Bentham, Harriet Taylor Mill, David Hume, Adam Smith, Ricardo, Auguste Comte, Coleridge, associationist psychology, British empiricism, and nineteenth-century reform politics.","InfluenceOn":""},"Significance":["Accepted as a direct Mill essay through OLL Collected Works, SEP, IEP, and scholarship evidence.","Mill remains central for liberty, utilitarian ethics, rights, democracy, public reason, induction, scientific method, women\u0027s equality, political economy, secular religion, and liberal social reform."],"EvidenceNote":["Accepted as a direct Mill essay through OLL Collected Works, SEP, IEP, and scholarship evidence."],"MainSections":[{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Text","BodyHtml":"\u003cp class=\"dz-philo__section-copy dz-philo__full-text-source\"\u003eFull text from \u003ca href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22783\"\u003eProject Gutenberg: Bentham Principles of Morals and Legislation\u003c/a\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-text-body\"\u003e\n\u003ch2 title=\"\"\u003eThe Project Gutenberg eBook of \u003cspan lang=\"en\"\u003eThe New England Magazine Volume 1, No. 3, March, 1886\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n \r\n \r\n\u003cbr\u003e\r\n \r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eRelease date\u003c/strong\u003e: September 27, 2007 [eBook #22783]\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eLanguage\u003c/strong\u003e: English\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eOther information and formats\u003c/strong\u003e: \u003ca href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22783\"\u003ewww.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22783\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eCredits\u003c/strong\u003e: Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Josephine Paolucci and the\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n (This file was produced from images generously made\u003cbr\u003e\r\n available by Cornell University Digital Collections).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003e \u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cpre\u003e\u003c/pre\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTranscriber\u0027s Note: Minor typos have been corrected and footnotes moved\r\nto the end of the article. Table of contents has been created for the HTML version.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003eContents\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n \r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#Along_the_Kennebec\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eALONG THE KENNEBEC\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#MAPLE-SUGAR_MAKING_IN_VERMONT\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eMAPLE-SUGAR MAKING IN VERMONT.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#EDITORIAL_NOTE_ON_DANIEL_WEBSTER\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eEDITORIAL NOTE ON DANIEL WEBSTER.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#THE_BOSTON_UNIVERSITY_LAW_SCHOOL\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE BOSTON UNIVERSITY LAW SCHOOL.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#HON_EDMUND_HATCH_BENNETT\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eHON. EDMUND HATCH BENNETT.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#THE_LIFE_AND_CHARACTER_OF_DANIEL_WEBSTER\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF DANIEL WEBSTER.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#FORTY_YEARS_OF_FRONTIER_LIFE_IN_THE_POCOMTUCK_VALLEY\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eFORTY YEARS OF FRONTIER LIFE IN THE POCOMTUCK VALLEY.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#TRUST\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eTRUST.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#ELIZABETHE\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eELIZABETH.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#THE_ORIOLE\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE ORIOLE.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#A_TRIP_AROUND_CAPE_ANN\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eA TRIP AROUND CAPE ANN.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#EDITORS_TABLE\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eEDITOR\u0027S TABLE.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#EDUCATION\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eEDUCATION.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#HISTORICAL_RECORD\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eHISTORICAL RECORD.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#NECROLOGY\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eNECROLOGY.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#IN_OLDEN_TIMES\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eIN OLDEN TIMES.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#LITERATURE_AND_ART\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eLITERATURE AND ART.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#INDEX_TO_PERIODICAL_LITERATURE\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eINDEX TO PERIODICAL LITERATURE.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n \r\n\u003ch4\u003eTHE\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003ch1\u003eNEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE\u003c/h1\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eAND\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003eBAY STATE MONTHLY.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\u003cspan\u003eOld Series March, 1886. New Series\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\u003cspan\u003eVol. IV. No. 3 Vol. I. No. 3.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eCopyright, 1886, by Bay State Monthly Company. All rights reserved.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTranscriber\u0027s Note: Minor typos have been corrected and footnotes moved\r\nto the end of the article.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[Pg 197]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"\" height=\"263\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-554fcbd565af1e27.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY HENRY S. BICKNELL\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe first glimpse of the Kennebec, on approaching it from the sea,\r\npresents to the stranger a barren and uninviting picture. Hemmed in on\r\neither side by low, rocky isles, studded with scraggy pines that have\r\nlong defied old Atlantic\u0027s blasts, it must have been a dreary and\r\ndisappointing sight, indeed, to the little band of voyagers who were\r\nseeking a home in the new world over two centuries ago. Many treacherous\r\nsand-bars reach out to the circuitous channel that extends seaward a\r\nmile or more, and numerous wrecks along shore bear evidence of their\r\nhidden dangers. Before the age of skilful pilots and steam fog-whistles,\r\nthe mariner must have had a busy time with his lead in threading this\r\nwatery pathway, unaided by a single sign or sound from shore. A few\r\ndays\u0027 sojourn among the charming bays and inlets dispels all feelings of\r\nlonesomeness, and unfolds a scene of continued interest and keen\r\nenjoyment. On a pleasant morning, from the summit of any hilltop the\r\nview is delightful. Scores of crafts, from\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 198]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"\" height=\"350\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-7491e25ba91023e3.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"178\"\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003ethe saucy mackerel-catcher to the huge three-master, are leaving their\r\nanchorage under the shadows of Sequin, and the lofty white shaft of the\r\nlighthouse above looms clear and grand against the sky. At the weirs\r\nalong the river fishermen are pulling in their nets, which glimmer with\r\ntheir night\u0027s catch. The bustling little tugs, with half a dozen \"icers\"\r\nin tow, are struggling nobly against the tide. The merry shouts of\r\nbathers on Popham beach mingle with the roar and rush of the incoming\r\ntide. The dark pine-clad hills trending northward form a fitting\r\nbackground to the scene. A fine government light on Pond Island guards\r\nthe entrance to the river. The cliffs on the ocean side are quite\r\nprecipitous, and rise to a height of sixty feet, over which the spray is\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"\" height=\"350\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-f53f46811977d9c1.jpg\" width=\"131\"\u003e\r\ndashed in severe storms. Why it was named Pond Island has always been a\r\nmystery, for the drinking-water even is caught from the showers that\r\nfall upon the light-keeper\u0027s roof. From the summit the island slopes to\r\nthe western shore, where a small cove affords the only landing-place,\r\nand in rough weather great skill is required in embarking safely. We\r\nwere informed that the island furnished pasturage sufficient for one\r\ncow, but, from a close observation, it was evident that she must be\r\ncontent with two meals a day, or get an occasional donation from the\r\nmeadows on the mainland. Twice a year the district inspector makes his\r\nrounds,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 199]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e and, during the week previous to his visit, the entire family\r\ndevote all their energy in scouring and polishing, until everything\r\nabout the place, from the doorknob to the lenses, fairly sparkles with\r\nbrilliancy. On these occasions, the light-keeper is seen in his best\r\nmood, and is the perfection of politeness and urbanity, for then a hope\r\nof reappointment is betrayed in every movement. Across the channel,\r\nStage and Salter\u0027s Islands, and the Georgetown shore, forms the eastern\r\nboundary of the river, and is the home of numerous camping and fishing\r\nparties during the summer. Here the artist may find many rare bits of\r\npicturesque scenery that are almost unknown. Further up the river, on\r\nthe left, Hunnewell\u0027s Point with its magnificent beach stretches away\r\nfor miles to the west. At its northern extremity stands Fort Popham,\r\nnamed after the first English explorer who visited the coast. It was\r\nerected some years ago, but has never been completed, and, as proven,\r\nthe government saved money by neglecting it. Imposing and impregnable as\r\nit might have been then, it would now offer but a feeble resistance to\r\nthe onslaught of modern naval warfare. Numerous pyramids of cannon balls\r\nare scattered about within the enclosure, and many old-fashioned guns\r\nhave been rusting away in peace for the past decade. The interior of the\r\nfortress is grass-grown, and two lonesome sentinels in faded regalia\r\nguard this useless property, and draw their regular wages from generous\r\nUncle Sam. They are very important in their manner, and allow no\r\nintruders on the premises. A few years ago two Harvard students ventured\r\nwithin the sacred walls, and one of them was fatally shot by the\r\nover-zealous officer. Popham Beach has become a favorite summer resort\r\nwithin the past few years, and boasts two hotels, and daily mails, and\r\nsteamers to the outside world.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[Pg 200]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"FORT POPHAM.\" height=\"176\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-5a771600f565f169.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"THE STORE, FORT POPHAM.\" height=\"233\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-d8804ca3a540c05a.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eTHE STORE, FORT POPHAM.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFishing forms the chief industry among the natives, although, in years\r\npast, when the shipping of ice became extensive on the river, and\r\nbrought immense numbers of vessels here, piloting at once became a great\r\nsource of profit. In those days bright visions of wealth suddenly\r\ndazzled their eyes, but the bonanza soon faded, for the advent of the\r\ntugboats dispelled their dream, and ruined their financial calculations.\r\nThe fishing-smacks then tossed idly at their moorings for weeks at a\r\ntime, and the straggling garden patches among the rocks passed\r\nunnoticed, while the owners were rowing seaward in search for incoming\r\nvessels. Oftentimes they embarked in their wherries soon after midnight,\r\nand early morn found them five or six miles from shore. Everybody\r\nsuddenly developed into an experienced navigator, and curious schemes\r\nwere originated in the endeavor to outwit each other. This vocation is\r\nno longer profitable, and the natives have relapsed into their former\r\nmonotony. So far away from the sound of a church-bell, it would be no\r\neasy matter to tell when the Sabbath morn arrives, were it not for the\r\nradical change that comes over these hardy longshoremen. The clatter and\r\njingle of the ponderous family razor, as it flies back and forth on the\r\ntime-worn strap suspended from the kitchen mantlepiece, is the first\r\nsignal that ushers in the day. The change is an outward one at least,\r\nfor then the \"biled\" shirt with high dickey, the long-tailed black coat,\r\nand ancient \"stovepipe\" take the place of the familiar reefer and\r\nsou\u0027wester. The low hum of hymns is heard, and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 201]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e refrains from \"I want to\r\nbe a Daniel\" float out on the air. Gradually increasing in volume and\r\nearnestness, the voices swell into a quaint and weird melody. From all\r\ndirections small boats are crossing river and bay to the little red\r\nschool-house at Popham. Moved, we confess, more by curiosity than by any\r\nthirst for religious consolation, we joined the procession. Gathered\r\nwithin the cheerless room, unadorned, save here and there by\r\nwretchedly-executed prints of early patriots who would scarcely be\r\nrecognized by their own friends, old and young alike presented a\r\ndistressed and penitent appearance.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"\" height=\"450\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-66a12ea89ee92e08.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"224\"\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll thoughts of the beautiful world outside were overshadowed by the\r\nfeelings of doubt and fear within. In the absence of a regular preacher,\r\neach one, beginning with the eldest and grayest of the flock, poured out\r\na pitiful story of sins, and prayed for strength to guide their\r\nuncertain steps. The lamentations grew louder and stronger, and the\r\ntears flowed fast and free, and the little ones shook with fear at the\r\ndismal picture unfolded to their already terrified minds. Finally,\r\novercome by their highly-wrought excitement, they subsided into a\r\nprolonged and painful silence, broken only by sobs and moans. Passing\r\nout from the dismal service to the green meadows that stretch away to\r\nthe sea, our little party gave a sigh of relief, and the air seemed\r\npurer, and the sky brighter than ever. On our return we passed one of\r\nthe worst self-accused sinners busily hauling in the cast catch from his\r\nweir along the shore. Tears still stood upon his furrowed cheeks, while\r\nreligiously apologizing for his seeming wickedness. His excuses were\r\nlavish with regret, but we could but feel that his sincerity was less\r\nthan his love of the mighty dollar.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA few years ago the natives were thrown into a state of the greatest\r\nexcitement by the discovery of valuable deposits of feldspar on one of\r\ntheir rocky farms. The news spread quickly along the river, and the\r\npresence of capitalists in their midst lent additional\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 202]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e interest to the\r\nprospective bonanza. The fishing business again came to a standstill,\r\nand the old settlers looked upon each other as bloated bond-holders.\r\nSuch a drilling and blasting was never seen before in these parts, and\r\nsoon the whole territory was dotted with huge mounds of imaginary ore.\r\nFarms that could scarcely be given away suddenly possessed enormous\r\nvalues in the minds of their lucky owners. Some of the mines were\r\ndeveloped extensively, and shipments began which have continued at\r\nintervals, but only a few of them furnished the best quality. The spar\r\nis shipped to the mills in New Jersey, where it is used for glazing\r\ncrockery. Rare specimens of beryl are often found by curiosity-seekers\r\namong the quartz.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"ACROSS THE MARSH, INDIAN POINT.\" height=\"136\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-3ac1d3d14fd38c68.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eACROSS THE MARSH, INDIAN POINT.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"HARRINGTON\u0027S LANDING.\" height=\"293\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-317f8ededf450482.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eHARRINGTON\u0027S LANDING.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAbout two miles above Popham the river widens into a considerable bay,\r\nwhich offers safe and spacious anchorage for vessels of all sizes. It\r\nbears the unpretentious name of Parker\u0027s Flats, but\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 203]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e when a fleet of\r\nhalf a hundred unfurl their sails to the morning breeze, the bay becomes\r\na stirring and imposing scene. Upon the left bank is Harrington\u0027s\r\nLanding, one of the noted landmarks in this region and the point of\r\ndeparture to the outside world. The elder Harrington has been something\r\nof an autocrat among the natives, and is one of the famous characters on\r\nthe river. He was once elected a member of the legislature, but after\r\ntaking his seat his importance seemed to be unappreciated by his\r\nassociates, and he obtained leave of absence and quickly returned to\r\nthis more genial spot. He was short but very portly, and his voice\r\ncontained many of the elements of a fog-horn. It is related that years\r\nago, while piloting a schooner out to sea, he fell over the stern into\r\nthe river. His boys put off in a skiff to the rescue, but being so\r\nponderous it was impossible to pull him in without upsetting the boat,\r\nso putting a rope around his body they towed him ashore, not much the\r\nworse off for his sudden bath. This colony has always been a prolific\r\nfield for the census collector, and it is doubtful if any authentic\r\nfigures as to the number of little Harringtons were ever obtained. They\r\nswarmed about the place like so many bees. One of them whom we had\r\nformerly noticed seemed to be missing, and on inquiring of the old man\r\nhe appeared bewildered. After reflecting a few moments he exclaimed,\r\n\"Oh! it seems to me he got \u0027schronched\u0027 last spring \u0027tween the wharf and\r\nschooner!\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"Fiddlers Reach.\" height=\"203\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-a352f01d2ccbc3db.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eFiddlers Reach.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA cold nor\u0027easter compelled us to pass the night here, and a long\r\nwretched night it was. We encamped in a fireless, cheerless room, and\r\nfought a small army of insects and mice, till the first streaks of dawn\r\nenabled us to vacate our quarters. The tumult and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 204]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e squabble overhead\r\ncontinued at intervals through the night and rose above the howling of\r\nthe storm without. Descending the creaky stairway, we found the old lady\r\nstripping fish for our breakfast. A number of pigs and fowl were\r\nrummaging about the kitchen at will. Piles of garments were stacked up\r\nin the four corners of the room, where they were sorted over and over\r\nagain, as each one of the boys emerged from above. Not wishing to spoil\r\nour appetite we kept out of sight till breakfast was ready, and the\r\nceremony of eating was performed as rapidly as possible. We were very\r\nhungry, and ate with our eyes nearly closed, and conversation was\r\nanything but hilarious. For years the huge flat-bottomed scow plied back\r\nand forth to the steamers, and the skipper enjoyed a monopoly of the\r\nbusiness, and ruled his motley crew with an iron hand. Gradually old age\r\nbegan to weaken his power, and the sons overthrew his authority and\r\npushed him aside. All hands became captain and crew at once, and amid a\r\nmedley of commands and crash of baggage, embarking got to be both\r\nexciting and perilous.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe river was discovered by the French, under Du Mont, in 1604, and\r\npossession taken in the name of the king of France. They had already\r\nplanted a colony at Quebec, and were led to believe, from meagre\r\naccounts of the Indians, which were strengthened by the magnitude of the\r\nriver and the great force of its current, that they had found another\r\nroute to their Canadian possessions. They made no extended explorations\r\nat this time, on account of the hostilities of the Indians, and resigned\r\nall attempt to maintain their claims to a region rich in furs and\r\nfisheries. Three years later the English, commanded by Capt. Geo.\r\nPopham, landed on this shore and made some attempts to form a\r\nsettlement, but the extreme severity of the following winter discouraged\r\ntheir ambitions and caused abandonment of the project. The English,\r\nhowever, renewed their efforts in 1614, and sent the celebrated Capt.\r\nJohn Smith, with two ships, to establish a permanent colony here. He\r\nmade a map of the territory and gave it the name of New England. The\r\ntrade with the natives became at once of considerable value, and\r\nfriendly relations were established for some time, which enabled the\r\ncolonists to obtain a better knowledge of the value of their new\r\ndiscoveries. The powerful tribe of Canibas Indians occupied the lands on\r\nboth sides of the river for a long distance. It is sometimes spelled\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 205]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\nKennebis, from which the stream derives its name. At a point a short\r\ndistance below the city of Bath, the river makes a sudden turn, which\r\ndiscloses the entrance to the Valley of the Kennebec. At once the\r\nscenery changes from the barren and rocky shores to one of broad and\r\nfertile acres.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis sharp bend of the river has always been known as \"Fiddler\u0027s Reach.\"\r\nTradition says that in early days a band of explorers, who were\r\nsearching along the river, passed through the \"Reach,\" and came upon the\r\nbroad valley so unexpectedly that their joy and surprise were unbounded.\r\nOne of the sailors climbed out upon the bowsprit and began to fiddle a\r\ntune in honor of the discovery. Either by the flapping of a sail or by\r\nhis own carelessness he was knocked overboard and drowned. The oldest\r\ninhabitants place implicit confidence in the legend, and the title will\r\nalways cling to the spot. Now and then a little neglected graveyard\r\ncomes into view, and the moss-covered shafts bear quaint inscriptions.\r\nWith considerable difficulty we deciphered the following lines:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eBrothers and sisters, as you pass by:\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eAs you are now so once was I.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eAs I am now so you will be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003ePrepare to die and follow me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe facts were as cold as the stone on which the words were chiselled,\r\nand startling as well; so we turn to pleasanter scenes.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSeveral little streams flow into the lower Kennebec, on which are\r\nsituated sleepy fishing villages, that once were the scenes of activity\r\nand prosperity. Upon the shores of these winding streams many a noble\r\nvessel was reared, and the light of the forge reflected the hopes and\r\nambitions of a busy people. When the ship-building industry received its\r\ndeath-blow, a sudden change took place, and silence has reigned supreme\r\nto this day. The event seemed to blast the energies of the population,\r\nand a Rip Van Winkle stillness settled down upon these once stirring\r\nscenes. Scarred and weather-bronzed sailors idly dream away the passing\r\nhours, waiting in vain for a revival of the once happy days.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eThe light of the forge has died away,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eThe anvil\u0027s ringing voice is still,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eAnd the bell in the church upon the hill\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eMournfully tolls for a by-gone day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 206]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhere once numerous fleets discharged their cargoes from the Indies, now\r\nonly an occasional \"smack\" is seen. Warehouses and piers alike have gone\r\nto decay, and the streets are grass-grown with neglect. As suddenly as\r\nthis lamentable event occurred, another change was rapidly wrought, when\r\nthe ice business received such a wonderful start, some fifteen years\r\nago.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAlthough ice had been shipped abroad to a limited extent years\r\npreviously, the possibilities of untold wealth had never before dazzled\r\nthe vision. Rude storehouses began to rise on every hand, which have\r\nsince given place to extensive and even handsome structures. A perfect\r\nfuror was created along the river by the brilliant prospect of a\r\ngigantic bonanza. Hundreds of storehouses of immense proportions were\r\nerected during the summer months, and for several successive winters the\r\nriver and adjacent streams were the scene of a feverish excitement.\r\nEvery dollar that could be obtained was invested in a claim, and some\r\nfarmers upon the shores mortgaged their possessions in the desire to\r\nembark in the enterprise. The ice-crop had sustained such a total\r\nfailure upon the Hudson, for one or two seasons, that the Kennebec\r\nfurnished the only extensive field for this product. In many cases later\r\non, however, the greed for gain overbalanced prudence in holding the\r\nharvest for fancy prices; and as other sections again furnished their\r\nshare of the article, many small fortunes dwindled away as rapidly as\r\nthey came. The business has since fallen into the control of large\r\ncompanies, who own their fleets of vessels and tugboats, but reap only a\r\nmoderate profit on their investment. The scenes are yet lively and\r\npicturesque, and add much to the charms of the locality.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSufficient capital, combined with the highest skill and the widest\r\nexperience, and the Kennebec would soon become a worthy rival of the\r\nfamous Clyde. Ship-building has not been altogether abandoned, but it is\r\nonly a shadow of its former greatness. The river at this point attains\r\nits greatest width. The opposite shore is the western boundary of the\r\ntown of Woolwich, which has always remained under the quiet rule of\r\nagriculture, and made no attempts to enter the field of commerce.\r\nCapital has been sparingly invested in manufactures; and although her\r\npeople have the prestige of wealth and brains, Bath will undoubtedly\r\ncontinue for years to come as she is to-day. She is the natural head of\r\nthe lower Kennebec, which embraces so many charming nooks and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 207]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e corners\r\nin its winding way to the sea. The remaining beauties and spots of\r\ninterest of the river will be treated in a future article, on \"The Upper\r\nKennebec.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom the western extremity of Fiddler\u0027s Reach the city of Bath stretches\r\nnorthward for several miles, fringing the waterfront with its scores of\r\ndocks and ship-yards. Years ago nearly the entire city was hidden from\r\nview by the lofty frames and hulls of vessels upon the stocks. The air\r\nwas freighted with the merry music of countless hammers, and\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eCovering many a rood of ground\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eLay the timber piled around:\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eTimber of chestnut and elm and oak,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eAnd scattered here and there with these\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eThe knarred and crooked cedar-trees,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eBrought from regions far away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNot a port or sea is there in any clime but the tall and stately ships\r\nof Bath have entered. Her name and reputation are worldwide. The onward\r\nmarch of steam has, however, supplanted the slower power of sails, and\r\nthis, together with the growing industry of iron ship-building, has\r\nprostrated the life of the city. The representatives of Maine in the\r\nhalls of Congress have striven vigorously and persistently in the\r\nendeavor to evoke national aid in securing such legislation as will\r\nenable these idle yards to compete with other more favored places.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"\" height=\"149\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-bc30751a6843643d.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[Pg 208]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eMAPLE-SUGAR MAKING IN VERMONT.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY J. M. FRENCH, M.D.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe poet Saxe has written of his native State, that Vermont is noted for\r\nfour staple products; oxen, maple-sugar, girls, and horses:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\"The first are strong, the last are fleet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eThe second and third exceedingly sweet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eAnd all uncommon hard to beat.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhatever changes may have taken place in other respects, in maple-sugar,\r\nat least, Vermont retains her preëminence, producing each year from\r\neight to ten million pounds, or more than any other single State, and\r\nnearly one-third of the entire amount manufactured in the United States.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"CATCHING SAP.\" height=\"450\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-1eb3b85534185a32.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"267\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eCATCHING SAP.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo the farmer\u0027s boy among the Green Mountains the springtime is the\r\nsweetest and most welcome of all the seasons. And however far he may\r\nwander in later years from the scenes of his boyhood, yet often, in\r\nquiet hours or when busied with the cares of life, his thoughts return\r\nto the old homestead; and, as he walks again in the old paths, recalls\r\nthe old memories, and watches the old-time pictures come and go before\r\nhis mental vision, he enjoys again, and with a freshness ever new, the\r\npleasures of the maple-sugar season.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMidwinter is past. The \"January thaw\" has come and gone, leaving a\r\nsmooth, hard crust, just right for coasting. The heavy storms of\r\nFebruary have piled the drifts mountain high over road and fence and\r\nwall; and the roaring winds of early March have driven the snow in\r\nblinding clouds along the hill-sides, through the forests, and down into\r\nthe valleys. But now the coldest days\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 209]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e are over, and the sun, in his\r\nreturning course, begins to send down-rays of pleasant warmth. The\r\nnights are still sharp, and the March winds have not yet ceased to blow;\r\nbut for a week, the snow has been melting at noon-day on the southern\r\nslope of the hills.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"THE YOKE.\" height=\"450\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-e1b9fb5e1bc339b1.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"299\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eTHE YOKE.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne afternoon, when the sun seems a little warmer than usual, the farmer\r\ncomes in to the house, on his return from a trip to the wood-lot,\r\nsaying, \"Boys, this is good weather for sap. We must get the buckets\r\nout, and be ready to tap the trees to-morrow.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe buckets are stored in the loft over the shed, or at the barn or in\r\nthe sugar-house, where they were carefully laid away after last year\u0027s\r\nseason was over. Now they must be washed and scalded, repaired if\r\nnecessary, and carried around to the trees.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTwenty-five years ago nearly all the buckets were made of pine or cedar,\r\nhad wooden hoops, and were without covers. At present many of them are\r\nmade of tin, and are provided with covers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBy night, with all hands at work, the buckets are washed and\r\ndistributed. They are left in sets of half-a-dozen at convenient\r\ndistances through the orchard, or else are turned bottom-upwards on the\r\nsnow, one at the foot of each tree.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSometimes it happens at this stage of the proceedings that a\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 210]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e storm\r\ncomes up unexpectedly, a cold spell follows, and operations are delayed\r\naccordingly. But, if the weather continues fine, the next day the trees\r\nare tapped.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"GATHERING THE SAP.\" height=\"333\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-4d027a286a60d29d.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eGATHERING THE SAP.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eArmed each with a bit-stock and one-half or three-quarter-inch bit, the\r\nfarmer and his older boys go from tree to tree, and, selecting a\r\nfavorable spot a few feet from the ground, break off any rough pieces of\r\nouter bark, and bore a hole into the tree to the depth of one or two\r\ninches. Formerly a larger bit was used, and the bore was rarely more\r\nthan an inch in depth; but experience has shown that the smaller and\r\ndeeper bore injures the tree less and secures a larger quantity of sap.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNext the younger boys, acting as assistants, come forward with spouts\r\nand nails and buckets. The old style of spout consists of a wooden tube\r\nsome five or six inches in length, tapered slightly at one end to fit\r\nthe auger-hole, and with the upper half of the cylinder cut away down to\r\nan Inch from the point where it enters the tree. The new style, now\r\nlargely used, is made of galvanized\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 211]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e iron, is of smaller size, and has\r\nattached to it a hook on which to hang the bucket. Sometimes, also,\r\nspouts of tin are used, being driven into the bark just beneath the\r\nauger-hole.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter the spouts have been driven in, the buckets must be put in place\r\nand fastened there. If iron spouts are used they are already provided\r\nwith hooks. If wooden or tin ones are used, instead, the common practice\r\nis to drive into the tree, a few inches below the spout, a nail made of\r\nwrought-iron, with a tapering point and thin head, and upon this to hang\r\nthe bucket by means of its upper hoop; or, if the ground is level and\r\nthe snow nearly gone, it is sometimes set upon the ground.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"BOILING SAP—THE OLD WAY.\" height=\"388\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-3c1c19d72eee1d11.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eBOILING SAP—THE OLD WAY.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt length the trees are tapped, the spouts and nails are driven, the\r\nbuckets are set, and all is ready for the sap.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI remember once to have seen in an illustrated magazine a picture, one\r\nof a series intended to represent the process of sugar-making, in which\r\nthe spouts were several feet in length, and the sap poured out in a\r\nrushing stream, as though each spout were a hose-pipe, and every tree a\r\nwater-main. To carry out the idea,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 212]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e it would have required a man to\r\nstand at every tree and empty the rapidly filling buckets into a monster\r\nhogshead.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNot thus lavishly is this nectar of the gods poured out on our New\r\nEngland hills; but slowly, filtered through the closely wrought fibres\r\nof the \u003ci\u003eacer saccharinum\u003c/i\u003e, absorbing new sweetness, and gaining a more\r\ndelicate flavor at each step of its progress, until at last it falls\r\ndrop by drop into the bucket. This is rarely filled in less than\r\ntwenty-four hours, while three or four bucketfuls is an average yield\r\nfor a season, and six a large one.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"BOILING DOWN.\" height=\"308\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-5f2f5336ac2487e2.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"450\"\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eBOILING DOWN.\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNext the sugar-house is put in order, the arch is mended, the kettle or\r\npan washed out, and all necessary preparations are made for boiling. The\r\nearliest method of boiling sap of which I have any recollection was in a\r\nhuge caldron kettle suspended from a heavy pole, which was supported at\r\neach end by the limb of a tree or on top of a post. Then a huge log was\r\nrolled up to each side of the kettle, and the fire was built between\r\nthem. This was known simply as the \"boiling-place,\" and could be changed\r\nas often as convenient. The kettle which contained the sap was also open\r\nfor\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 213]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e the reception of the dust, and smoke, and falling leaves, and forms\r\nof dirt innumerable.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe first advance on this primitive method was made by building a rough\r\narch of stone around the kettle to retain the heat and economize fuel.\r\nNext a rectangular pan of sheet-iron was substituted for the kettle, and\r\na shed or rude house was built around the arch. The process of\r\nimprovement has continued, until to-day in most of the larger orchards\r\ncan be found neat and convenient sugar-houses, with closely-built arches\r\nof brick; while in place of the ancient caldron kettle, or the still\r\nmuch-used sap-pan, it is common to find the modern evaporator.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere are several patterns of evaporators in use. The most common one\r\nconsists of a pan of from twelve to sixteen feet in length and four or\r\nfive in width, divided into compartments by a series of partitions which\r\nrun nearly across the pan, at intervals of six or eight inches, but at\r\nalternate ends stop three or four inches short of the side. Thus all the\r\ncompartments are connected with each other in such a manner as to form\r\none winding passage-way.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBack of the arch, and at one corner, stands a large hogshead containing\r\nsap, with a faucet at the bottom, and a small tube opening into the rear\r\ncompartment of the evaporator. This tube has a self-acting valve, which\r\ncloses when the sap has reached the proper height in the pan, and opens\r\nagain when it has been lowered by boiling.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the sap is first turned on it at once runs through the entire\r\npassage-way, and covers the bottom of the pan. Thenceforward it enters\r\nslowly, and is heated gradually in the rear compartments, while the\r\nboiling is confined to the front portion of the pan.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe density of this boiling portion of the liquid is constantly\r\nincreased by evaporation; and the fresh sap, instead of mixing\r\nintimately with the boiling mass, acts as a pressure in the rear,\r\nforcing it steadily towards the front. Soon the different compartments\r\nof the evaporator present the saccharine fluid in all its phases, from\r\nfresh, cool sap, through warm, hot, and boiling, then partially\r\nconcentrated, then thin syrup, then thicker, and, if the process be long\r\nenough continued, even down to sugar. It is customary, however, to draw\r\nit off through another faucet in front when it has reached the\r\nconsistency of syrup.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the smaller orchards, the sap is usually gathered in pails and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 214]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\nbrought directly to the central reservoir. For this purpose a sap-yoke\r\nis borne on the shoulders, with a large pail suspended from each end. In\r\nlarger orchards, where the ground is not too rough, a barrel or hogshead\r\nis fastened upon a sled and drawn through the sugar-place by a yoke of\r\noxen; or, if the ground slopes regularly, a system of spouts or pipes is\r\nsometimes arranged to bring the sap from convenient stations to the\r\nboiling-place.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is roughly estimated that four gallons of sap will make one pound of\r\nsugar. But the sap varies greatly in sweetness, not only in different\r\nseasons, but in different parts of the same season, and in different\r\ntrees at the same time. As a general rule, large and widely-branching\r\ntrees produce sweeter sap than small and gnarled ones, as well as a much\r\nlarger quantity. The first sap of the season is always the sweetest, and\r\nof the most delicate flavor, while late runs are of poorer quality, and\r\nhave a \"buddy\" and bitter taste.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA drink from the buckets is considered a great treat at first, and,\r\nthough it soon loses the charm of novelty, is always healthy and\r\nrefreshing, and is the common drink of the sugar-camp during the entire\r\nseason.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSometimes, when the buckets are nearly full, there comes a cold snap,\r\nand the sap is turned to ice. But, however hard it may have frozen,\r\nthere is always a central portion, small if the ice is thick, larger if\r\nthin, which is liquid still. This is pure, concentrated sweetness, maple\r\nhoney unalloyed, though it never finds its way into the market.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo far all has been hard work, but now comes the boiling, and here the\r\npoetry of sugar-making begins.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn those old days,—the halcyon days of youth,—after the sap was\r\ngathered, and the fuel piled high beside the arch, then it was that we\r\nsat down by the blazing fire and watched it burn; heaped on the logs,\r\nfilled up the kettle, and again sat down to muse, or talk, or read. If\r\nthe wind whistled afar, the boiling-place was in a sheltered nook; if\r\nthe rain poured down, or the snow-flakes fell without, we were protected\r\nby the sugar-house or shed; if the day was cold the fire was warm; \u003ci\u003eand\r\nthe heart of a youth is never cold\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the weather was fine, and the sap running fast, it was often\r\nnecessary to spend a good part of the night in boiling sap.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 215]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e Instead of\r\nfeeling this a burden, here we found our pleasures but intensified. How\r\nthe bright blaze chased the dim shadows far back into the woods, and the\r\nblack smoke rolled up in great clouds to the sky! How sweet and warm and\r\nrefreshing was the sap as it grew more and more concentrated! And how\r\nwelcome were the neighbors\u0027 boys when they came to share with us the\r\nmidnight watch! There was many a thrilling story told, many a sprightly\r\njoke was cracked, or lively game of euchre played. And when the\r\nwar-cloud gathered in the Southern horizon, it was there we talked of\r\nthe latest news, and registered our patriotic vows.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen pans are used for boiling, the last thing before the work of the\r\nday is done is \"syruping down.\" When the sap is all boiled in, and the\r\nproduct has attained a sufficient degree of concentration,—nearly equal\r\nto that of the \"maple syrup\" of the markets,—the fire is suffered to go\r\ndown, the pan is drawn off, the syrup dipped out and strained through a\r\nflannel cloth, and stored away in pails or tin cans to await the final\r\nprocess of \"sugaring off.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis event takes place after a few days of boiling, when the syrup has\r\naccumulated in sufficient quantities; and, as it presents the first\r\nfruits of the harvest, is usually made the occasion of a sugar-party.\r\nNow, the maple sugar-party is a New England institution, and the great\r\nfeast of the season. The young people invite their friends, the\r\nneighbors\u0027 boys and girls, and sometimes a select party of school-mates\r\nfrom the village. The young folks go out through the woods in glee, the\r\nboys drawing the girls on sleds over the crust, the young men and\r\nmaidens walking together,—a merry throng full of life and glee. The\r\nolder folks are also there, at least sometimes; but their presence is no\r\ndamper on the spirits of the young.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFirst, the pan is half filled with syrup, and a gentle fire is started.\r\nAs the temperature rises, a thick scum appears on the surface,\r\nconsisting of such impurities as may have passed through the meshes of\r\nthe strainer. If proper care has been taken to keep out all forms of\r\ndirt in gathering and boiling, and if, after being strained, the syrup\r\nwas allowed to stand and settle for two or three days, until all the\r\nnitre,—or \"sand,\" as it is called,—and other heavy impurities, were\r\ndeposited on the bottom of the pail, then the liquid which is poured off\r\nis clear and light-colored.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 216]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e But if these precautions have not been\r\ntaken, if dust, and leaves, and cinders have been allowed free access,\r\nthen the liquid is dirty and dark-colored, and the scum is thick and\r\nmuddy. In such cases it is customary to make use of some device for the\r\npurpose of \"purifying\" it, such as stirring a cup of milk or a beaten\r\negg into the slowly heating mass. These things are supposed to have an\r\naffinity for the dirt, and to increase the volume of impurities which\r\nrise to the surface. Their real utility is questionable.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the liquid begins to simmer slightly, and just before it fairly\r\nboils, all the scum is removed by means of a long-handled skimmer, and\r\nis emptied into the pan with the \"settlings,\" and both these are\r\nafterwards utilized in the manufacture of vinegar.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter boiling for a while, the syrup begins to thicken, and the bubbles\r\nto rise higher and higher in the pan, like boiling soap. Thenceforward\r\nit must be watched with care, to prevent its boiling over, or burning on\r\nthe bottom of the pan.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs soon as the sugar begins to show signs of graining, all hands pass up\r\ntheir saucers to be filled; and they are refilled an unlimited number of\r\ntimes, until all are thoroughly sweetened. For though sugar is the\r\nproduct of hard labor, and has a cash value, yet in all the sugar-camps\r\nit is as free almost as water throughout the season,—until it is\r\ngrained and in the tubs, when it becomes property, and is held sacred.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNot many, however, can eat more than one, or at most two, saucerfuls of\r\nwarm sugar. So, when the appetite is sated with this, and the sugar is\r\ndone a little harder, merry voices call for pans of snow, or if a clean\r\nsnow-bank is at hand, betake themselves to this instead, and, after\r\nhaving partially cooled the liquid by stirring it in the saucer, pour it\r\nslowly out upon the smooth snow-crust, where it quickly hardens and\r\nbecomes brittle, making a most luscious and toothsome substitute for\r\nmolasses candy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf the sugar is to be made into cakes it requires to be boiled longer\r\nthan if intended for graining in tubs, as is the more common form.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFinally, when frequent trials show that the proper degree of\r\nconcentration has been reached, the master of the ceremonies pronounces\r\nit \"done,\" pulls off the fagots, and lets the fire go down, or else\r\ndraws the pan off the arch and lets it cool. Then the\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 217]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e sugar is stirred\r\nvigorously with a huge wooden paddle until it begins to grain, when it\r\nis poured out into the tubs, or dipped into tins, if intended for cakes.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut though the sugar is eaten, the party is not over for the young\r\nfolks. There is still time for an hour or two of coasting—an\r\nold-fashioned tournament of \"sliding down hill.\" And so the livelong day\r\nis a time for sweet things said and done as well as eaten, of romping\r\nand frolicking, of mirth and laughter, of youthful courtships begun and\r\ncarried on, of joy and gladness everywhere.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eEDITORIAL NOTE ON DANIEL WEBSTER.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe extraordinary public services of Daniel Webster, as one of the most\r\neminent statesmen of this or of any other country, cannot be adequately\r\nestimated. Hence, whatever illustrates his public life, and especially\r\nhis private character, will never cease to be invested with a degree of\r\ninterest which attaches to few other public men. So much of disparaging\r\nstatements in reference to Mr. Webster has been unjustly and, perhaps,\r\nthoughtlessly put in circulation, that we deem it a privilege to publish\r\nelsewhere an article presenting trustworthy evidence tending to correct\r\nwhatever false impressions may still exist. At the Webster Centennial\r\nDinner in Boston, in January, 1882, under the auspices of the Dartmouth\r\nCollege Alumni Association, among other able addresses, one by Hon.\r\nEdward S. Tobey was especially remarkable for the evidence produced as\r\nto Mr. Webster\u0027s religious opinions, which, unsought, had come to his\r\nknowledge during a period of forty years. Mr. Tobey, upon request, used\r\nthe material facts of this address in the preparation of an article for\r\nthis Magazine. In this connection it is of interest to recall the fact\r\nthat Mr. Tobey united with President Smith, during the administration of\r\nthe latter, in efforts for the founding of a Webster Professorship at\r\nDartmouth College, and was the first donor to the fund, contributing\r\n$5,000. In the year just ended (1885) the endowment reached the sum of\r\n$50,000, and the professorship was established.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 218]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eTHE BOSTON UNIVERSITY LAW SCHOOL.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY BENJAMIN R. CURTIS.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA distinguished member of the Boston Bar was recently asked by a younger\r\nprofessional brother what he considered the most valuable acquirement a\r\nyoung man could possess for the successful practice of the law. He at\r\nonce replied, \"To be able to tell your clients what \u003ci\u003eto do\u003c/i\u003e.\" This was\r\nthe purpose for which the Boston University Law School was founded; this\r\nhas been the constant aim of its teachings; and the selection of\r\npractitioners for instructors, coming fresh from consultations with\r\ntheir clients, and from sharp contests in the court-rooms, has been made\r\nfrom the first with the endeavor to set before the students live men,\r\nwho could tell them what to do and how to do it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf students could be more frequently brought face to face with the\r\nliving heroes of the law, the zeal for careful work and laborious study\r\nwould be fanned almost into enthusiasm. To follow the complex details of\r\na difficult branch of law, from the lips of an eminent counsellor who\r\nhas but lately exhausted the subject in an important case at the bar, is\r\na rare and precious pleasure. At our medical schools the students sit at\r\nthe feet of the leading physicians and surgeons of the day. Why are\r\nyoung lawyers sent forth to practise, acquainted only with the old\r\nmasters of the law, and ignorant, often, of the very names of the\r\neminent ones of their day and generation? Chief-Justice Shaw said, \"A\r\nman may be a laborious student, have an inquiring and discriminating\r\nmind, and have all the advantage which a library of the best books can\r\nafford; and yet, without actual attendance on courts, and the means and\r\nfacilities which practice affords, he would be little prepared either to\r\ntry questions of fact or argue questions of law.\" \"I was once asked,\"\r\nsaid a high legal authority, \"to inspect the examination-books of a\r\ngraduating class in a law school. The student whose work I was shown was\r\nthe son of a distinguished man, a faithful scholar, and a young man of\r\nexcellent ability. The subject he had written upon was Equity\r\nJurisprudence,—one of the most difficult branches of the law. He had,\r\nindeed, studied his English models carefully, and his book showed the\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 219]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\nextreme theoretical form of instruction pursued at the school. Among\r\nother things, in describing the course of equity procedure in England,\r\nhe fully and elaborately explained each minute step; to what \u003ci\u003ebuilding\r\nin London\u003c/i\u003e certain papers were to be taken on a certain day, and at a\r\nprecise time, and in what \u003ci\u003eroom\u003c/i\u003e filed; \u003ci\u003eand I certainly expected to be\r\ntold in what pigeon-hole\u003c/i\u003e.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Boston School of Law was opened, in 1872, under the supervision of\r\nthe Boston University, of which it is a department. The first\r\ninstruction was given at No. 18 Beacon street, where the school remained\r\nfor two years. The school opened with sixty-five students. The late Hon.\r\nGeorge S. Hillard was the Dean. The lecturers comprised such well-known\r\nnames as Edmund H. Bennett, Henry W. Paine, Judge Benjamin F. Thomas,\r\nDr. Francis Wharton, Judge Dwight Foster, Charles T. Russell, Judge\r\nBenjamin R. Curtis, William Beach Lawrence, Judge Otis P. Lord, Dr. John\r\nOrdronaux, Nicholas St. John Greene, Melville M. Bigelow, and Edward L.\r\nPierce. It is safe to say that no other Law School of that date,\r\nanywhere in the country, could have offered to its students a better\r\nlist of instructors than this. A remarkably varied judicial and\r\nprofessional experience among the corps of lecturers, from first to\r\nlast, is here set forth. Truly, the law could be learned here from its\r\nfountain-heads.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe fall of 1873 saw ninety students on the roll. The corps of lecturers\r\nremained about the same as before, while the course of instruction was\r\nsomewhat enlarged. It was evident that the students had come to work;\r\nthe list was largely composed of young men who had selected the law for\r\ntheir profession after careful consideration, who understood that they\r\nwould be obliged to rely upon it for their support in life, and who were\r\ntherefore determined to make the most of the rich instruction which the\r\ndistinguished body of lecturers was ready to impart. The students wished\r\nto be taught what to do, and they were eager to put their knowledge to\r\ngood use as soon as the occasion permitted.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe fall term of 1874 opened with one hundred and thirty-four students.\r\nThe good seed planted two years previously was thus already bearing its\r\nfruit. A few changes had been made in the faculty and lecturers. Mr.\r\nNicholas St. John Greene was performing the duties of acting Dean, to\r\nenable Mr. Hillard to seek that retirement which his health demanded.\r\nJudge John Lowell offered a course of\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 220]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e lectures on Bankruptcy, and the\r\nwell-known lawyers Charles B. Goodrich and Chauncey Smith, of Boston,\r\nwere prepared to meet the senior class with their specialties,\r\nrespectively, of Corporation and Patent law. With the opening of this\r\nterm a change of quarters was necessitated; the school was removed to\r\nthe Wesleyan building, 36 Bromfield street, which was then considered\r\nvery commodious. Here it remained till the fall of 1884. Each subsequent\r\nyear saw a continued increase in the number of pupils. In the fall of\r\n1877 Judge Edmund H. Bennett was appointed Dean. A more fortunate\r\nselection could not have been made. A long experience as Probate Judge\r\nhad given him a wide and practical knowledge of Probate law in all its\r\ndepartments, and his varied legal writings in other departments of the\r\nlaw showed how well qualified he was to undertake the general\r\nadministration of the school. With all his learning, moreover, Judge\r\nBennett possesses a remarkable power of imparting knowledge, a very\r\nclear insight into human nature, and a certain gentle magnetism which\r\nattracts and charms young men. The man and the occasion were thus well\r\nsuited to each other. If the important place of Dean had been filled at\r\nthat time by an ordinary man, the remarkable progress then made might\r\nhave gone for nought; but with Judge Bennett at its head, the Boston Law\r\nSchool has continually justified the hopes and wishes of its founders.\r\nThis result could only have been brought about by the patient\r\nsupervision, watchful energy, and valuable experience, which are clearly\r\nset forth in the rare character of its Dean.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the fall of 1879 the corps of lecturers was increased by the name of\r\nTruman H. Kimpton, lecturer on the Constitution of the United States;\r\nand three special instructors were appointed to assist the\r\nlecturers,—Messrs. Wayland E. Benjamin, George R. Swasey, and John E.\r\nWetherbee; and in 1880 the list of instructors was further increased by\r\nAustin V. Fletcher. In 1881 Benjamin R. Curtis took his father\u0027s place\r\nas lecturer on the Jurisdiction and Practice of the United States\r\nCourts. John Lathrop came to lecture on Corporations, and Francis L.\r\nWellman was added to the corps of instructors. In 1883 Edward J. Phelps\r\nbegan to lecture on Constitutional law, and continued his connection\r\nwith the school till his departure to England, as United States Minister\r\nat the Court of St. James.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 221]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe year 1883 also marked the retirement from the school of Hon. Henry\r\nW. Paine, who for eleven years had filled the chair of Lecturer on Real\r\nProperty. \"So thoroughly was he master of his subject, difficult and\r\nintricate as it confessedly is, that in not a single instance, except\r\nduring the lectures of the last year, did he take a note or scrap of\r\nmemoranda into the class-room.\"\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_1\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn 1884, owing to the receipt of several large legacies, the University\r\nwas enabled to provide new quarters for the Law School. A large and\r\nwell-built house, No. 10 Ashburton place, was purchased by the\r\ncorporation, and was at once remodelled in accordance with a careful\r\nplan which one of the best architects in the city had devised. This\r\nhouse was formerly the residence of the late Mr. Augustus H. Fiske, the\r\nwell-known lawyer, who died many years ago. Mr. Fiske was a remarkable\r\nman. His practice was very extensive throughout Suffolk and Middlesex\r\ncounties, and he is said to have been in the habit of entering more\r\ncases at the terms of the courts than any other lawyer of his day. He\r\nmade it a point to reach his office before seven o\u0027clock in the morning,\r\nand he generally remained there till late in the evening. The\r\nconsequence was that he broke down rather early in life, and died in his\r\nprime. His early death, however, was not expected by the Bar. A short\r\ntime before his last sickness he appeared as a witness in a certain case\r\nin Suffolk County, and at the conclusion of a long cross-examination at\r\nthe hands of Henry W. Paine, Mr. Fiske inquired if Mr. Paine had any\r\nfurther questions to ask. \"No, Brother Fiske,\" said Mr. Paine, \"I think\r\nnot,—but stay; you have just told us when you began practice; now, what\r\nyour brethren of the Bar are more concerned in, is, when are you going\r\nto leave off?\"—\"Not till the last nail is driven in my coffin,\" was the\r\nanswer. Soon after this Mr. Fiske fell sick, and Mr. Paine called on him\r\nat his house. Mr. Fiske was sitting up in bed taking a deposition in his\r\nnight-gown, with the parties gathered about him. The next day he died.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe alterations at No. 10 Ashburton place were made under the\r\nsupervision of Mr. William G. Preston, the architect. The front of the\r\nbasement, about twenty feet square, is a pleasant room, well lighted,\r\nand is used by the students, for study, conversation,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 222]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e and general\r\nsocial purposes. Directly back of this is a dressing-room, 25 × 19,\r\ncontaining about one hundred lockers, for the use of the students.\r\nAscending to the first floor, one is struck with the spaciousness of the\r\nhall-way, which extends from the entrance to the door of the\r\nlecture-hall. It is finished in light wood, and the design of the\r\nstaircase is particularly tasteful, while the stairs themselves are very\r\neasy of ascent. To the left of the entrance is the Dean\u0027s room, 19 × 19,\r\nfinished in cherry; and next on the left is a part of the library, which\r\nis finished in white-wood. In the rear is the lecture-hall, where\r\neverything has been done to combine light and air with comfort. The hall\r\nis something over fifty-two feet long, twenty-six feet wide, and\r\nseventeen feet in height. Almost the entire roof, which is in the shape\r\nof an immense skylight, is made of glass. The walls are light in color,\r\nwhile the general effect is one of light and airiness. In the\r\nlecture-hall, as elsewhere, special regard has been paid to the\r\nventilation. The atmosphere is changed continually, without any\r\nperceptible draughts. The seating capacity of the lecture-hall is about\r\ntwo hundred. The second story is devoted wholly to the library, which,\r\nwith the room on the first floor, affords space for the University\u0027s\r\nvaluable collection of books. Leading from one of the large rooms on\r\nthis floor is a small one for the librarians, which is fitted up with\r\nopen fireplace, desks, and other suitable furnishings. The whole floor\r\nis finished in white-wood. On the third floor are two recitation rooms,\r\nwith a seating capacity of eighty and fifty, respectively. Above are\r\nthree club-rooms, devoted to the use of the several law clubs in the\r\nschool. With such accommodations the school will receive a new impetus.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe cause of legal education has advanced greatly within the memory of\r\nlawyers who are even now hardly of middle age. Twenty years ago law\r\nschools in this country were few in number and most of them poor in\r\nequipment. No examination, and but little study, was required as a\r\ncondition for the degree of Bachelor of Laws; one of the oldest schools\r\nconferred the degree upon all students registered therein for a certain\r\nlength of time,—one year. To-day, in most of the schools, students are\r\nrequired to study at least two years, and to pass examinations in some\r\nten or twelve branches of the law before a degree is given. Some schools\r\nrequire three years\u0027 study, and of these this school is one. Indeed,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 223]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e it\r\nwas the first to establish such a course, the trustees including it in\r\nthe statutes of organization in 1871. Transition from the earlier\r\nstandards to the present one has been gradual but steady, and to-day the\r\ndegree is conferred (save in exceptional cases) only upon those who have\r\nstudied law at least three years.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne or two features of the course of instruction deserve especial\r\nmention. The first of these is the prominence given to the system of\r\nrecitations, and their separation from the lectures. These latter are\r\ngiven by the elder members of the profession; the lecturer himself\r\noccupies most of the hour in laying down and explaining propositions of\r\nlaw and citing authorities in support. The lecturer\u0027s work is\r\nsupplemented by the instructors, who conduct recitations upon the topics\r\nalready reviewed by their elders; in these exercises the students are\r\nexpected and required to occupy most of the time in asking or answering\r\nquestions, and in the discussion and argument of points raised or\r\nsuggested in the previous lecture.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe freedom of debate and liberty of criticism given at the recitations,\r\nlarger than it is practicable to obtain at the lectures, is found to be\r\na most useful method of fixing principles or correcting errors.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Moot Courts are another prominent feature of the instruction. These\r\nare held regularly every Saturday. Some question of law is argued by\r\nstudents who have been previously assigned as counsel; a member of the\r\nfaculty sits as Chief-Justice, two students being associated with him as\r\nJustices. Upon the decision of the question written opinions are\r\nprepared by each of the Associate Justices and read by them at a\r\nsubsequent session of the court. These opinions are afterwards printed\r\nand bound under the title of \"Boston University Reports.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn October last (1885) the school opened with one hundred and\r\nseventy-one students, and with the following list of lecturers and their\r\ntopics: Brooks Adams, \u003ci\u003eChartered Rights\u003c/i\u003e; Edmund H. Bennet, \u003ci\u003eAgency,\r\nContracts, Criminal Law, Partnership, Wills\u003c/i\u003e; Melville M. Bigelow,\r\n\u003ci\u003eBills and Notes, Insurance, Torts\u003c/i\u003e; Uriel H. Crocker, \u003ci\u003eMassachusetts\r\nConveyancing\u003c/i\u003e; Samuel S. Curry, \u003ci\u003eElocution and Oratory\u003c/i\u003e; Benjamin R.\r\nCurtis, \u003ci\u003eJurisdiction and Practice of the United States Courts\u003c/i\u003e; William\r\nG. Hammond, \u003ci\u003eHistory of the Common Law\u003c/i\u003e; John Lathrop, \u003ci\u003eCorporations\u003c/i\u003e;\r\nJames K. Maynadier,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 224]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e \u003ci\u003ePatent Law\u003c/i\u003e; Elias Merwin (who succeeded the late\r\nJudge Dwight Foster in 1884), \u003ci\u003eEquity Jurisprudence, Equity Pleading\u003c/i\u003e;\r\nJohn Ordronaux, \u003ci\u003eMedical Jurisprudence\u003c/i\u003e; John E. Wetherbee, \u003ci\u003eReal\r\nProperty\u003c/i\u003e; Edward J. Phelps, \u003ci\u003eConstitutional Law\u003c/i\u003e; Charles T. Russell,\r\n\u003ci\u003eAdmiralty and Shipping, Evidence, Parliamentary Law, Pleading and\r\nPractice\u003c/i\u003e; Charles T. Russell, Jr., \u003ci\u003eLaw of Elections\u003c/i\u003e; James Schouler,\r\n\u003ci\u003eBailments, Domestic Relations\u003c/i\u003e; George R. Swasey, \u003ci\u003eSales\u003c/i\u003e; Francis\r\nWharton, \u003ci\u003eConflict of Laws\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this current school year there are one hundred and seventy-five\r\nundergraduate students, among them men from Maine, California, and\r\nFlorida; while during the fourteen years of its existence the school has\r\nhad among its members students from nearly every State in the Union, the\r\nTerritories, and District of Columbia, as well as several from the\r\nEmpire of Japan.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe graduates now number about six hundred and fifty, and the school is\r\nto be congratulated on the success which many of them have attained in\r\nprofessional and public life. In this Commonwealth, during the year just\r\nclosed, the alumni counted among them members of the Governor\u0027s Council,\r\nState Senators, Mayors, District Attorneys, Registers of Probate,\r\nRepresentatives, and Clerks of Courts; while in some of the Western\r\nStates graduates, though still young, wear judicial honors.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe many friends of the school suffered a great loss in the recent\r\nsudden death of Mr. John E. Wetherbee. At thirty years of age he had\r\nalready earned for himself a substantial practice, and his constant\r\napplication to the study of law, together with an easy and impressive\r\ndelivery, gave his instruction at the school peculiar power. Some burden\r\ntoo heavy for him to bear brought his work to a sudden close. Those who\r\nwere accustomed to meet him, and look for him, and listen to him, will\r\nfind it hard to realize that they will see him no more. His work at the\r\nschool is now in the hands of Mr. Albers, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jenney, and Mr.\r\nJ. G. Thorp, Dr.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA course of lectures on Railroad Law is now being given, for the first\r\ntime, by J. H. Benton, Jr., the counsel for the Old Colony Railroad\r\nCompany; and the course on Real Property, which was but partially\r\ncompleted by Mr. Wetherbee, has been taken up by Christopher G.\r\nTiedeman, now Professor of Law in the University of Missouri.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 225]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is safe to say that everything that means, intelligence, experience,\r\nand hard work can suggest, to continue the school at its present high\r\ngrade of excellence, will be afforded by those who are, and who will be,\r\nintrusted with the charge; and it is proper to add that the school has\r\nbenefited greatly by the untiring efforts of Mr. Samuel C. Bennett (son\r\nof Judge Bennett), who is now Assistant Dean, and also one of the\r\nregular instructors, and who faithfully seconds the work of his father\r\nin the general direction of affairs.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe school already has a large and valuable library, and an annual\r\nappropriation is made by the University for its care and increase. The\r\nState Library, Boston Public Library, and Social Law Library, all of\r\nwhich are in the immediate neighborhood of the school, afford every\r\npossible facility for extra investigation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eFOOTNOTES:\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_A_1\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Prof. Wm. Mathews, LL.D., in Bay State Monthly, November,\r\n1885.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eHON. EDMUND HATCH BENNETT.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom among the hills of Vermont and New Hampshire have sprung many\r\nrenowned citizens, whose talents, industry, moral worth, and practical\r\nwisdom have been by no means unimportant factors in the prosperity and\r\nprogress of the nation, and in the due discharge of its legislative,\r\nadministrative, and judicial functions. The subject of this brief\r\nsketch, Hon. Edmund Hatch Bennett, was born in Manchester, Vt., April 6,\r\n1824. He was educated in his native State,—first in the Manchester and\r\nBurlington academies, and then in the University of Vermont, at\r\nBurlington, where he graduated in the class of 1843. In 1873 his \u003ci\u003ealma\r\nmater\u003c/i\u003e bestowed upon him the well-merited degree of Doctor of Laws. The\r\nprofession of the law, in which, by his industry, capacity, and\r\ncharacter, he has been so successful, was not adopted without mature\r\nconsideration. For some short time after graduation he taught a private\r\nschool in Virginia; but, probably finding, subsequently, that his\r\ntastes, quite as much as his talents, might have fuller and fitter scope\r\nfor their gratification and development in legal than in academical\r\npursuits, he ultimately decided to enter upon a course of legal studies\r\nwith a view to preparing himself for the discharge of forensic and\r\njudicial duties.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 226]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e His first practical knowledge of the law was acquired\r\nin the office of his father at Burlington, Vt., his father being at the\r\ntime, and for many years previous, an Associate Justice of the Supreme\r\nCourt of Vermont. He became a member of the Vermont bar in 1847; but\r\nearly in 1848 he removed to Taunton, where he resided until 1884; and to\r\nwhose social, educational, and religious advancement he has contributed\r\nin no small degree. In June, 1853, he married Sally, the second daughter\r\nof Hon. Samuel Crocker, of Taunton.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the city was incorporated, in 1865, his fellow-citizens showed\r\ntheir high appreciation of his personal character and public spirit in a\r\nvery pronounced manner by unanimously electing him the first chief\r\nmagistrate of the newly incorporated community. To this honorable and\r\ninfluential post he was twice elected subsequently, viz., in 1866 and\r\n1867.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJudge Bennett has put much hard and honest work into his profession; in\r\nthis he is an example to younger men, which it would not be amiss for\r\nthem to imitate. His first law connection in Taunton was with the late\r\nNathaniel Morton, a brother of the present Chief-Justice of\r\nMassachusetts. Subsequently he formed a partnership with Hon. Henry\r\nWilliams, and afterwards with Henry J. Fuller, Esq., of Taunton.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt the bar of his own county he took almost from the first a prominent\r\nplace, and he has been able to turn the accumulated and well-digested\r\nresults of his study and practice to good account in the instruction of\r\nothers. During the years of 1870, 1871, and 1872 he occupied the\r\nposition of lecturer at the Dane Law School of Harvard University,\r\nCambridge. With the Law School of Boston University he has stood\r\nconnected from its commencement in 1872, receiving at that time the\r\nhonor of being selected as its Dean. He was not at the time able to\r\nserve in that capacity, but was a regular lecturer, and in 1876, on\r\nbeing again elected to the position, he accepted it. This relation to\r\nthe school he sustains at present, having, during the decade which has\r\npassed since his assumption of the office, contributed in no small\r\nmeasure to the present efficient organization and very gratifying\r\nprosperity of the school. In May, 1858, he was appointed Judge of\r\nProbate and Insolvency for Bristol county, holding the office\r\ntwenty-five years, and resigning in 1883.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 227]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn other directions, and by other methods than that of communicating\r\noral instruction, Judge Bennett has exerted himself to develop the\r\nscience and advance the practice of his profession. His legal\r\nworks—written and edited alone, or in company with others—number more\r\nthan a hundred volumes, the chief of which are: \"English Law and Equity\r\nReports;\" an edition of Mr. Justice Story\u0027s works; \"Leading Criminal\r\nCases;\" \"Fire Insurance Cases;\" \"Digest of Massachusetts Reports;\"\r\nAmerican editions of the recent English works of \"Goddard on Easements;\"\r\n\"Benjamin on Sales;\" \"Indermann on the Common Law;\" and many others. For\r\nsome considerable time he has been editorially connected with the\r\n\u003ci\u003eAmerican Law Register\u003c/i\u003e of Philadelphia. His lecture on \"Farm Law,\"\r\ndelivered at Hingham in December, 1878, before the State Board of\r\nAgriculture, attracted very general attention at the time, and was\r\nrepublished in agricultural journals all over New England, as well as in\r\nthe West.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn religious sympathy and work Judge Bennett is allied with the\r\nProtestant Episcopal Church. For some years he acted either in the\r\ncapacity of warden or vestry-man of St. Thomas parish, Taunton, and\r\nseveral times as delegate represented the parish in the Diocesan\r\nConvention. In 1874, 1877, 1880, and 1883 he was appointed delegate from\r\nhis diocese to the General Triennial Convention of the Protestant\r\nEpiscopal Church in this country. He is now senior warden of St. Paul\u0027s\r\nEpiscopal Church, of Boston.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 228]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eTHE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF DANIEL WEBSTER.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY HON. EDWARD S. TOBEY.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI might well shrink from writing on a topic which has already engaged\r\nthe pen and thought of the most able of Mr. Webster\u0027s contemporaries and\r\nbiographers, were it not that, by opportunities wholly unsought, so much\r\nof reliable testimony, not previously published, has come to me tending\r\nto correct false opinions and impressions as to his private character,\r\nthat a sense of justice which I could not conscientiously resist, led me\r\non the occasion of the centennial anniversary of Mr. Webster\u0027s birthday,\r\nwhich was observed in this city (Boston) in 1882, under the auspices of\r\nthe Alumni of Dartmouth College, to present, substantially, the facts\r\nand views which are now by request repeated. I may add, that I realized\r\nmore fully an obligation and an interest to give currency to them from\r\nthe fact of my former connection with Mr. Webster\u0027s Alma Mater, as one\r\nof its Board of Trustees, and also from having made the first\r\ncontribution to the Webster professorship in that institution, which,\r\nthrough the liberality of others, has since been fully endowed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhile I would not enlarge on the subject of Mr. Webster\u0027s public\r\nservices and extraordinary statesmanship already so well known\r\nthroughout this and other countries, I may briefly refer to one\r\nespecially eloquent speech of the many made by him to which it was my\r\nprivilege to listen. After the death of President Harrison, and the\r\naccession to office of Vice-President John Tyler, all the members of the\r\nCabinet, except Mr. Webster, resigned. He remained as Secretary of\r\nState, for the purpose of bringing to a successful conclusion a\r\nperplexing controversy between Great Britain and the United States as to\r\nthe trial and release of Alexander McLeod, a British subject, then held\r\nas a prisoner in the State of New York for participating in an attack on\r\nthe steamer \"Caroline\" within the waters of the United States. The\r\nBritish Government avowed the act as authorized, and imperatively\r\ndemanded McLeod\u0027s\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 229]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e release. It tasked to the utmost the extraordinary\r\nability of Mr. Webster, as a mutual friend informed me, to find\r\nsufficient ground on which to comply with England\u0027s demand, and yet\r\nmaintain the dignity of the Government of the United States,\r\nconsistently with the relations between the Federal Government and that\r\nof the State of New York. The question seemed at one time to threaten\r\nthe peaceful relations between England and America, of which the public\r\nwere not aware. Under Mr. Webster\u0027s construction of the duty and\r\nobligations of our Government, McLeod was surrendered, and soon after\r\nMr. Webster resigned. Having been unjustly criticised by certain\r\npolitical leaders, and his motives impugned for remaining so long in the\r\nCabinet, he at once sought vindication in a speech delivered in Faneuil\r\nHall, defining his position, in which he poured out a torrent of\r\neloquence seldom equalled, and in which he clearly indicated the chagrin\r\nthat even a great man may feel when he is made the subject of unjust\r\nsuspicion and criticism.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhile I have no claim whatever to be regarded as one of the great\r\nstatesman\u0027s associates, I was favored with a very limited and casual\r\nacquaintance in the latter part of his life, and an opportunity to know\r\nsomething of his private life and his religious character, through his\r\nparticular friends, of whom a few were also my personal friends. I may\r\nperhaps, therefore, properly speak of unquestionable facts which have,\r\nby force of circumstances, come to my knowledge at different times\r\nthrough a period of about forty years, tending to disprove the base\r\nrumor and slanders which have found an astonishing currency.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo these I never thought it proper to refer publicly, until the pages of\r\none of our most respectable periodicals\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_B_2\"\u003e[B]\u003c/a\u003e reproduced the rumors, which\r\nwere subsequently publicly refuted in the Boston \u003ci\u003eHerald\u003c/i\u003e, by Mr.\r\nWebster\u0027s able biographer, George Ticknor Curtis. The friends of Mr.\r\nWebster would have been false to his memory and their own moral\r\nobligation had they failed to put forward the evidence in their\r\npossession to disprove the charges on which such rumors were fabricated,\r\nand which, until a few years ago, had not found a place, so far as I\r\nknow, in any respectable publication.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe late Dr. John Jeffries, who was the physician of Mr. Webster,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 230]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e was\r\nalso my family physician for twenty years. Not long after the close of\r\nthe late civil war, an Episcopal clergyman of Charleston, S.C., became\r\nmy guest. He being in need of medical advice, I introduced him to Dr.\r\nJeffries. After his case had been disposed of he inquired of Dr.\r\nJeffries: \"Pray, sir, were the stories which we hear at the South\r\nconcerning Mr. Webster\u0027s private character true?\" The doctor replied:\r\n\"Do you refer to his alleged drinking habits?\"—\"Yes, sir,\" said the\r\nclergyman. \"No, sir,\" answered Dr. Jeffries; \"they were not true.\" He\r\nadded: \"I was his physician for many years, and made the \u003ci\u003epost-mortem\u003c/i\u003e\r\nexamination. He died from no such cause.\" To illustrate to what extent\r\nMr. Webster was misunderstood and consequently maligned, the doctor\r\nrelated the following fact: \"On a certain occasion when Mr. Webster was\r\nengaged to speak in Faneuil Hall, he had been for several days much\r\nreduced by medical treatment. Late in the afternoon I suggested that, in\r\nhis reduced condition, a glass of wine would be useful. He replied: \u0027No,\r\ndoctor, I prefer a plate of soup; and when His Honor the Mayor calls for\r\nme, perhaps you will accompany me.\u0027 I assented, and did accompany him.\r\nThat evening, before Mr. Webster had closed his speech, a certain\r\npolitical rival left the hall and was met by a friend, who inquired, \u0027Is\r\nthe meeting over?\u0027 The envious politician answered, \u0027No; I have come\r\naway disgusted. Webster is intoxicated.\u0027\" Who was the most reliable\r\nwitness in this case,—his honest physician, an eye-witness, who spoke\r\nfrom knowledge, or the political rival, who spoke from false inference?\r\nThis is but one of several similar instances of misapprehension and\r\nconsequent cruel injustice which I might relate, did the time and\r\noccasion permit.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere is now living in this city a gentleman of the highest\r\nrespectability, personally well-known to me for thirty-five years, who\r\nwas for about twenty-five years intimately connected with Mr. Webster,\r\nat Marshfield, as the manager of his affairs, and consequently with him\r\nunder all circumstances during his summer residence there. Mr. Webster\r\nregarded him with the affection of a father for a son. This gentleman\r\nhas said to me more than once, with emotion and evident feelings of\r\nindignation: \"No one has ever seen Mr. Webster at Marshfield unduly\r\nunder the influence of stimulants.\" He adds: \"I was with him on festive\r\noccasions\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 231]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e here and in New Hampshire, when others were indulging in the\r\ncustomary habit of drinking; but I have never seen Mr. Webster, on those\r\noccasions, use stimulants to excess.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe late Judge Peleg Sprague, whom from family relationship it was my\r\nprivilege to know intimately until the very last year of his life, a\r\nshort time before his death, in conversation with me, refuted the\r\ncharges of Mr. Webster\u0027s alleged excessive drinking habits in\r\nWashington. Judge Sprague was ten years in Congress, and was associated\r\nwith Mr. Webster, under various circumstances, in public and social\r\nlife.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have thus offered the evidence of three witnesses, whose opportunity\r\nof knowledge and whose credibility, it cannot be denied, are to be\r\naccepted against rumors so easily put in circulation by reckless as well\r\nas by mistaken men, but which have beyond question been believed by very\r\nmany good men who had not the opportunity, or perhaps the sense of\r\nobligation, to investigate the origin of them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs to Mr. Webster\u0027s religious character and habits of mind, I can hardly\r\nexpress the great satisfaction afforded me by the testimony of his\r\nintimate friend, the Rev. Dr. Lothrop, who has in eloquent and\r\nunqualified language confirmed, and, indeed, more than confirmed, all\r\nthat others have known of it.\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_C_3\"\u003e[C]\u003c/a\u003e Dr. Lothrop repeated his criticism on a\r\nprayer once offered by the chaplain of the United States Senate, in\r\nwhich Mr. Webster concurred, expressing at the same time his view of the\r\nnature and true object of prayer. This reminds me of the fact that the\r\nlast sermon which Mr. Webster ever heard was on the subject of prayer,\r\nfrom the lips of the late Rev. Dr. Kirk, preached in the little\r\nMethodist church at Duxbury, about four miles from Marshfield. This was\r\nabout six weeks before Mr. Webster\u0027s death. He was accompanied by Sir\r\nJohn Crampton, the British Minister, who at that time was at Marshfield\r\nnegotiating a treaty on the fishery question, Mr. Webster then being\r\nSecretary of State. Through the mutual friendly relations of my esteemed\r\nfriend and partner, the Hon. Seth Sprague, I had the privilege, with him\r\nand the Rev. Dr. Kirk, of dining with Mr. Webster the next day. It\r\nafforded an opportunity to listen to his entertaining and instructive\r\nanecdotes, of which I will relate one only. He said: \"On a certain\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 232]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\noccasion, when President Kirkland, of Harvard University, was called\r\nupon by one of his familiar friends, a clergyman, he inquired as to the\r\nstate of affairs in his parish; to which the clergyman replied, \u0027We are\r\ntroubled by a good deal of controversy.\u0027—\u0027Ah! and pray what may the\r\nsubject be?\u0027 inquired Dr. Kirkland. \u0027It is the doctrine of the final\r\nperseverance of the saints which agitates the minds of my people,\u0027 said\r\nthe clergyman. \u0027Well,\u0027 said President Kirkland, \u0027I, too, have a\r\ncontroversy among my people; but the topic is of a very different\r\nnature. What troubles me and them most is, the final perseverance of\r\nsinners.\u0027\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI am sure, however, that his own statement of his Confession of Faith,\r\nwritten in 1807, and published in the Boston \u003ci\u003eCourier\u003c/i\u003e about twenty-two\r\nyears since, taken together with his extraordinary plea in the famous\r\nGirard case, and his address at Plymouth in 1820, on the subject of its\r\nsettlement by the Pilgrim fathers will be specially appreciated. The\r\nconfession is as follows:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe in the existence of Almighty God, who created and\r\ngoverns the whole world. I am taught this by the works of\r\nNature and the word of Revelation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe that God exists in three persons: this I learn from\r\nRevelation alone. Nor is it any objection to this belief that I\r\ncannot comprehend how \u003ci\u003eone\u003c/i\u003e can be \u003ci\u003ethree\u003c/i\u003e, or \u003ci\u003ethree\u003c/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eone\u003c/i\u003e. I\r\nhold it my duty to believe, not what I can comprehend or\r\naccount for, but what my Maker teaches me.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be\r\nthe will and word of God.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe Jesus Christ to be the Son of God. The miracles which\r\nHe wrought establish in my mind His personal authority, and\r\nrender it proper for me to believe whatever He asserts; I\r\nbelieve, therefore, all His declarations, as well when He\r\ndeclares Himself the Son of God as when He declares any other\r\nproposition. And I believe there is no other way of salvation\r\nthan through the merits of His atonement.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe that things past, present, and to come are all\r\nequally present in the mind of the Deity; that with Him there\r\nis no succession of time nor of ideas; that, therefore, the\r\nrelative terms past, present, and future, as used among men,\r\ncannot, with strict propriety, be applied to Deity. I believe\r\nin the doctrines of foreknowledge and predestination, as thus\r\nexpounded. I do not believe in those doctrines as imposing any\r\nfatality or necessity on men\u0027s actions, or any way infringing\r\nfree agency.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe in the utter inability of any human being to work out\r\nhis own salvation without the constant aids of the Spirit of\r\nall grace.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe in those great peculiarities of the Christian\r\nreligion,—a resurrection from the dead and a day of judgment.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe in the universal providence of God; and leave to\r\nEpicurus, and his\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 233]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e more unreasonable followers in modern times,\r\nthe inconsistency of believing that God made a world which He\r\ndoes not take the trouble of governing.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAlthough I have great respect for some other forms of worship,\r\nI believe the Congregational mode, on the whole, to be\r\npreferable to any other.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe religion to be a matter not of demonstration, but of\r\nfaith. God requires us to give credit to the truths which He\r\nreveals, not because we can prove them, but because He declares\r\nthem. When the mind is reasonably convinced that the Bible is\r\nthe word of God, the only remaining duty is to receive its\r\ndoctrines with full confidence of their truth, and practise\r\nthem with a pure heart.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe that the Bible is to be understood and received in\r\nthe plain and obvious meaning of its passages, since I cannot\r\npersuade myself that a book intended for the instruction and\r\nconversion of the whole world should cover its true meaning in\r\nsuch mystery and doubt that none but critics and philosophers\r\ncan discover it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe that the experiments and subtleties of human wisdom\r\nare more likely to obscure than to enlighten the revealed will\r\nof God, and that he is the most accomplished Christian scholar\r\nwho has been educated at the feet of Jesus and in the College\r\nof Fishermen.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe that all true religion consists in the heart and the\r\naffections, and that therefore all creeds and confessions are\r\nfallible and uncertain evidences of Evangelical piety.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese views he held at twenty-five, and in the main retained them in his\r\nlater years, as is shown by his remarks before the Supreme Court of\r\nMassachusetts on the occasion of the death of his intimate associate,\r\nJeremiah Mason, of which the following is an extract:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, sir, political eminence and professional fame fade away\r\nand die with all things earthly. Nothing of character is really\r\npermanent but virtue and personal worth. These remain. Whatever\r\nof excellence is wrought into the soul itself belongs to both\r\nworlds. Real goodness does not attach itself merely to this\r\nlife: it points to another world. Political or professional\r\nreputation cannot last forever, but a conscience void of\r\noffence before God and man is an inheritance for eternity.\r\nReligion, therefore, is a necessary and indispensable element\r\nin any great human character; there is no living without it.\r\nReligion is the tie that connects man with his Creator, and\r\nholds him to His throne. If that tie be all sundered, all\r\nbroken, he floats away,—a worthless atom in the universe; its\r\nproper attraction all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole\r\nfuture nothing but darkness, desolation, and death. A man with\r\nno sense of religious duty is he whom the Scriptures describe\r\nin such terse but terrific language, \"Without God in the\r\nworld.\" Such a man is out of his proper being, out of the\r\ncircle of all his duties, out of the circle of all his\r\nhappiness, and away, far, far away, from the purposes of his\r\ncreation. A mind like Mr. Mason\u0027s, active, thoughtful,\r\npenetrating, could not but meditate deeply on the condition of\r\nman below, and feel its responsibilities. He could not look on\r\nthis mighty system,—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\"This universal frame, thus wondrous fair,\"—\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 234]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ewithout feeling that it was created and upheld by an\r\nIntelligence to which all other intelligences must be\r\nresponsible. I am bound to say, that in the course of my life I\r\nnever met with an individual, in any profession or condition of\r\nlife, who always spoke and always thought with such awful\r\nreverence of the power and presence of God. No irreverence, no\r\nlightness, even no too familiar allusion to God and His\r\nattributes, ever escaped his lips. The very motion of a Supreme\r\nBeing was, with him, made up of awe and solemnity, and filled\r\nthe whole of his great mind with the strongest emotions. A man\r\nlike him, with all his proper sentiments and sensibilities\r\nalive in him, must in this state of existence have something to\r\nbelieve, and something to hope for; or else, as life is\r\nadvancing to its close and parting, all is heart-sinking and\r\noppression Depend upon it, whatever may be the mind of an old\r\nman, old age is only really happy when, on feeling the\r\nenjoyments of this world pass away, it begins to lay a stronger\r\nhold on those of another.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Webster then quotes, on the authority of another, the grounds of Mr.\r\nMason\u0027s religious faith, thus:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Mason was fully aware that his end was near; and in answer\r\nto the question, \"Can you now rest with firm faith upon the\r\nmerits of your Divine Redeemer?\" he said, \"I trust I do. Upon\r\nwhat else can I rest?\" At another time, in reply to a similar\r\nquestion, he said, \"\u003ci\u003eOf course\u003c/i\u003e; I have no other ground of\r\nhope.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Webster adds:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch, Mr. Chief-Justice, was the life and such the death of\r\nJeremiah Mason. For one I could pour out my heart like water at\r\nthe recollection of his virtues and his friendship, and in the\r\nfeeling of his loss. I would embalm his memory in my best\r\naffections.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAgain, in the following extract from a letter to his teacher, Mr. James\r\nTappan, about two years before Mr. Webster\u0027s death, he writes:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou have, indeed, lived a checkered life. I hope you have been\r\nable to bear prosperity with meekness, and adversity with\r\npatience. These things are all ordered for us far better than\r\nwe could order them for ourselves. We may pray for our daily\r\nbread; we may pray for forgiveness of sins; we may pray to be\r\nkept from temptation, and that the kingdom of God may come in\r\nus, and in all men, and His will everywhere be done. Beyond\r\nthis we hardly know for what good to supplicate the Divine\r\nMercy. Our Heavenly Father knoweth what we have need of better\r\nthan we know ourselves, and we are assured that His eye and His\r\nloving kindness are upon us and around us every moment.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHow entirely in harmony are these religious views of Mr. Webster with\r\nsimilar utterances on several public occasions, to which allusion has\r\nalready been made; and especially with that\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 235]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e extraordinary dramatic\r\nscene so vividly described by his biographer, Mr. Harvey, who was an\r\neye-witness and participator in it, when, in the solitary farm-house of\r\nJohn Colby,\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_D_4\"\u003e[D]\u003c/a\u003e in New Hampshire, Mr. Webster, at the request of Mr.\r\nColby, led in prayer. Whatever else of unfriendly criticism has been\r\nmade on the character of Mr. Webster, he has never been charged with\r\nhypocrisy, or of parading his religious opinions; least of all in that\r\nremote hamlet of John Colby, whither he had gone to visit him for the\r\nfirst time in twenty-five years, because he had heard of Mr. Colby\u0027s\r\nremarkable conversion late in life. Can there be the remotest suspicion\r\nthat other than the most pure and noble of all motives could have\r\ngoverned him, as he then sought communion with God in prayer? And, as\r\nMr. Harvey remarked to the writer, \"It was indeed a prayer.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAbout one year before the death of Mr. Webster I casually met Professor\r\nStuart, of Andover, on his return from a visit to Mr. Webster, at\r\nMarshfield, when, in the course of conversation relating to his\r\nreligious habits, the professor remarked, \"Mr. Webster has arrived at\r\nthat period in life when he feels more than ever his moral\r\naccountability;\" and added, \"He has resumed family worship.\" I inquired,\r\n\"What evidence have you of this?\" He answered, \"Clergymen who have\r\nrecently visited in his family have so informed me.\" This, of course,\r\nimplied that family worship had once been his custom, but that it had\r\nbeen temporarily suspended,—perhaps attributable to unusual pressure on\r\nhis time by reason of his always arduous public duties.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI am glad to have the opportunity, in these columns, of repeating such\r\ntestimony as I am able to offer, and to which much more might be added,\r\nas to the worth and private character of America\u0027s greatest statesman,\r\nwhose record of distinguished public service will adorn the pages of his\r\ncountry\u0027s history with unfading lustre long after the unjust aspersions\r\non his character shall have passed into oblivion forever.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eFOOTNOTES:\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_B_2\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[B]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e The \u003ci\u003eAtlantic Monthly\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_C_3\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[C]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Speech at Dartmouth Webster Centennial Dinner, Boston,\r\n1882.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_D_4\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[D]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e John Colby was the husband of Mr. Webster\u0027s eldest sister,\r\nwho died many years before the visit here referred to. He was known as a\r\ngreat sceptic in religious matters in early life, and hence Mr.\r\nWebster\u0027s earnest desire to visit him soon after he heard of Mr. Colby\u0027s\r\nconversion.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 236]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eFORTY YEARS OF FRONTIER LIFE IN THE POCOMTUCK VALLEY.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY HON. GEORGE SHELDON.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne result of John Eliot\u0027s attempt to civilize the Massachusetts Indians\r\nwas, that in 1663 the General Court granted to the town of Dedham eight\r\nthousand acres of wilderness, as compensation for the territory taken by\r\nthe apostle for his settlement at Natick. After an examination of\r\nvarious localities, Dedham selected a tract upon the far away lands of\r\nthe Pocomtucks, bought out the rights of the Indians who claimed it, and\r\nin 1665 laid out the grant there. This land was divided into five\r\nhundred and twenty-three shares, or rights, called \"cow-commons,\" and\r\nheld by each freeholder of Dedham, according to his interest in the\r\nundivided land in the old township; and it was paid for by a general\r\ntown tax. Fractions of a cow-common were called sheep-commons, five of\r\nwhich equalled a cow-common. These shares were offered for sale to such\r\nmen as Dedham should approve. The required standard of character does\r\nnot appear, but this regulation was no dead letter, as the town records\r\ntestify; and picked men only were allowed a foothold on this new\r\npossession. We may therefore suppose that it was a goodly body of men\r\nwhich gathered, about 1671-5, on the virgin soil in the lower valley of\r\nthe Pocomtuck River. Here were the headquarters of the Pocomtuck\r\nIndians, whose chieftains were at the head of the confederate clans in\r\nthe Connecticut valley. In 1663, the date of the grant, the Pocomtucks\r\nwere engaged in a successful campaign against the powerful Mohawks; but,\r\nbefore the compass and chain of the surveyor had been called into\r\nrequisition to lay out the bounds of the grant, the majority of this\r\ntribe had been swept off by a retaliatory invasion of their western\r\nenemies. This was doubtless considered a special interposition of\r\nProvidence in behalf the projected settlement, and a manifestation of\r\nDivine indignation against the heathen, who were popularly considered\r\nsubjects of the devil, seeking to establish his kingdom \"in these\r\nuttermost parts of the earth.\" However this may be, the first English\r\nsettlers here found the power of native rule broken, and a remnant of\r\nthe Pocomtucks\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 237]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e gathered for protection near the centre of a triangle\r\nformed by the settlements at Hadley, Hatfield, and Northampton.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe early comers had no fear of the natives, and danger there was none.\r\nThey were welcomed by the crushed tribe as another bulwark against the\r\nMohawks. There is no hint of any hostile feeling on the part of the red\r\nmen, or of any anticipation of it on the part of the whites, until the\r\nbreaking out of Philip\u0027s War. The primal cause of this outbreak is not\r\nfar to seek. Whenever and wherever, on our shifting frontier, our\r\nso-called civilization has come in contact with the barbarism of the\r\naborigines, similar results have followed. And nowhere was this effect\r\nmore certain than when our Puritan ancestors, with their inflexible\r\nideas of duty, confronted the New England savage in his native wilds.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt should have been early apparent to our rulers that these two races,\r\nessentially so different, could not live side by side in fellowship and\r\nharmony, and subject to the same rules and regulations. Eliot realized\r\nthis, and planned the isolated community at Natick, which, as we have\r\nseen, resulted in the English settlement at Pocomtuck.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe policy of the whites was, by fair means or foul, to induce the\r\nnatives, as soon as possible, to acknowledge allegiance to the English;\r\nthis being accomplished, the laws of the Puritans were strictly enforced\r\nupon these free children of the forest, and their violation punished by\r\nfine, imprisonment, and stripes. It does not appear that any particular\r\neffort was made in the Connecticut Valley to teach the savages the\r\nprecepts of Christ, but they were held accountable to the laws of Moses,\r\nas interpreted by the rulers, even to being punished for travelling on\r\nSunday.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch oppressive acts by narrow-minded good men were supplemented by the\r\nknavery of unscrupulous bad men. The Indian trader, in accordance with\r\nthe teachings of the times, not only looked upon the savages as the\r\noffspring of Satan, but also as fair objects of spoil; consequently, the\r\nsimplicity, moral honesty, and ignorance if these Canaanites and\r\nAmalekites were made the most of financially. Ignorant of the benefits\r\nof wise restraint, and unused to such wiles as were practised upon them\r\nby the traders, the unsophisticated natives had a hard time indeed\r\nbetween the two.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDemoralized by the white man\u0027s fire-water, they were cheated while under\r\nits influence. Though the sale of rum to the Indians\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 238]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e was forbidden by\r\nlaw, and illicit traders were prosecuted, \"conviction in liquor cases\"\r\nwas no easier then than now. The word of a heathen had small weight\r\nagainst the oath of a Christian, and fear of the traders often prevented\r\nthe victims from pressing their complaints.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBefore the advent of the whites the natives seem to have been thrifty\r\nand provident, laying up stores for contingencies. With English\r\nimplements and weapons, their facilities for planting and hunting were\r\ngreatly increased, and their products should have been correspondingly\r\nlarger. The unlimited demand for furs should have stimulated the chase,\r\nand their sale should have added to their comforts in food and shelter.\r\nBy their contact with the whites, their lives should have been changed\r\nfor the better. Was this the effect? The contrary is notoriously true.\r\nThe increased income was squandered in liquors. Like thousands to-day,\r\nthey would give their most costly possessions to gratify their appetite\r\nfor strong drink. When the corn crop was short, and gave out in the\r\nspring, or had been squandered for rum, they borrowed of the traders,\r\npaying two hundred per cent for it at harvest. They became poor,\r\nshiftless, and dependent. They even pledged their children as security,\r\nto be held as slaves in default of contract. They knew they were\r\ndebased, and despised by the superior race, and felt their degradation.\r\nTo this condition had come the remnant of the Pocomtucks; a power which\r\nwithin a generation had humbled the fierce Mohawks, and scattered in\r\nbattle the armies of Uncas the Mohegan.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo the natives, the English fur-trader was the representative of his\r\nrace; and as they gradually found themselves no match for his methods or\r\nhis morals, their simple faith in the white man\u0027s honesty, their\r\ndebasing fear of his prowess, their reverence for him as a superhuman\r\nbeing, little by little died out. They saw themselves wronged,\r\ndespoiled, and abused, with less and less power to assert their rights\r\nand maintain their independence; and their hearts became more and more\r\nfilled with a sullen desire for revenge. In the ethics of the North\r\nAmerican Indian, there was but one mode of gratifying this feeling.\r\nNothing would suffice but the blood of the offender. This fearful code,\r\nwith all its horrors, was felt alike by the innocent and the guilty,\r\nwhen Philip and the hour came.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile the plantation at Pocomtuck was increasing in\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 239]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e strength and\r\nprosperity. The rich soil of the meadows yielded an abundance of Indian\r\ncorn, wheat, rye, barley, beans, and flax. Game of every kind was plenty\r\nand easily secured. Flocks of turkeys, pigeons, geese, and ducks were\r\nall about them in the woods and waters. The forest also furnished\r\ncondiments, in the form of sugar from the sap of the maple tree, and\r\nhoney from the heart of the \"bee tree.\" The rivers teemed with choice\r\nfish; herds of deer were so common as to impress the name of \"Deerfield\"\r\npermanently upon the settlement. Peace and plenty smiled on all, and the\r\nfoundations of the little community seemed firmly established. The\r\nplanters had come to stay. In 1673, a minister had been secured in the\r\nperson of Samuel Mather, a Harvard graduate of 1671. In 1675, they had\r\nalready \"a little house for a meeting-house, yt they meete in,\" and were\r\nbuilding a dwelling for the minister. None dreamed that the horrors of\r\nan Indian war were so soon to overwhelm them and change the whole aspect\r\nof nature and of human affairs in this quiet valley. The news of the\r\noutbreak at far-off Plymouth, in June, 1675, raised no fears in them.\r\nThe attack on Brookfield, August 2, opened their eyes, and preparations\r\nfor defence were pushed with vigor. The swamp fight under the shadow of\r\nWequamps brought the war to their very doors; and, on the first of\r\nSeptember, the settlers were called upon to defend their homes against\r\nthe attack of those who had hitherto been considered trusty friends.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe days of peace and plenty were over for this unhappy people. On the\r\nslaughter of Lothrop and the \"Flower of Essex,\" at Bloody Brook,\r\nSeptember 18, this chosen land was deserted and given back to the\r\nwilderness.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter seven years of wandering, such of the survivors as had courage\r\nenough returned to the desolate scene of their former prosperity; but\r\nthe progress of resettlement was slow and painful. Fortifications were\r\nbuilt, old and young trained for soldiers, watch and ward kept night and\r\nday, scouts ranged the surrounding forests, and all were constantly on\r\nthe alert. All hunting or fishing, all labor in forest or field, all\r\njourneying, was at the imminent risk of life or liberty. From the\r\nnearest swamp or thicket, from behind some fence, stump, or clump of\r\nbrake, at any moment might appear the flash of the musket or gleam of\r\nthe scalping-knife. Never ending toil under these conditions, and\r\nunceasing vigilance, were the price of existence, and the stern\r\nrealities of\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 240]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e life closed in upon them on every side. Labor they must,\r\nor starvation was at the door; for their sustenance must be drawn from\r\ntheir own acres. They could not look back for aid, as the towns below\r\nwere in the same condition. Women and children were not exempt from\r\nlaborious toil. Of relaxation there was little, and recreation was\r\nunthought of. Even parental love was constrained and formal. Children\r\nwere born into a cold and cheerless atmosphere, and it is not to be\r\nwondered at that they grew up hard and austere men and women, whose\r\nchief or only solace was the hope of an eternity of rest and\r\npsalm-singing, in a heaven earned by the endurance of trials with piety,\r\npatience, and faith that all their sufferings would in some way redound\r\nto the glory of God.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere was little desire or opportunity for cultivating the mind. A dense\r\nignorance of letters was the rule. Hardly a woman born of the generation\r\npreceding Queen Anne\u0027s War could write her name, and many of the most\r\nactive and useful men could do no better. The people lived wholly off\r\nthe land. Their clothing and bedding were either from flax, raised,\r\npulled, rotted, broken, and swingled by the men; and hatchelled, carded,\r\nspun, and woven into cloth, and cut, and made up by the women; or else\r\nof wool sheared from the flocks, carded and spun by hand, and knit into\r\nstockings, or woven into blankets or rugs, or into flannel, to be fulled\r\nfor men\u0027s wear; or into linsey-woolsey, for the women and children. To\r\nthe material for men\u0027s garments must be added buckskin for breeches and\r\nleggins. Shoes were often made of untanned hide, moccasin fashion, a\r\nmethod borrowed from the Indians. Thorns took the place of pins in\r\nwoman\u0027s gear, and thongs did duty for buttons, with men. If the maiden\r\ndid have \"genuine bear\u0027s oil\" for her hair, for lack of a mirror her\r\nhead must be dressed by the pool or placid spring.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe imports were the metals for the smith, guns, swords, lead, powder,\r\nrum, salt, sickles, razors, jack-knives, scissors, needles. There was\r\nseen occasionally, in the most forehanded families, a show of red shag\r\ncotton, calico, or Manchester. Very rarely some ambitious woman would\r\nappear with a silk wimple, scarf, or ribbon. In such extreme cases, be\r\nshe dame or maiden, the stern hand of the law fell heavily upon the\r\nculprit, and certainly with more weight if she wore the unseemly and\r\noffending article \"in a flaunting manner.\"\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 241]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey had neither tea nor coffee. Their drink beside water was cider or\r\nmalt beer. Spirituous liquors were a luxury, used principally in\r\nsickness, at weddings, funerals, or other special occasions. Indian corn\r\nand wheat were staple articles of diet; the former eaten as hulled corn,\r\nor beaten in a mortar into samp or hominy; and probably wheat was\r\nprepared in the same manner. Their dishes were of wood or pewter;\r\ngourd-shells answered for dippers and vessels of various use; and\r\nclam-shells made acceptable spoons. The household utensils were largely\r\nhome-made.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eArtisans were few. The wood-work of their carts, ploughs, yokes, and\r\nother farm implements, was generally made at home. The cart-irons,\r\nploughshares, chains, axes, billhooks, scythes, and other cutting\r\ninstruments, were hammered out on the anvil of the village blacksmith;\r\nand the work turned out by them is unequalled by any of the craft\r\nto-day.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith all their hardships and poverty, with all their distress and\r\ndanger, the people were strict in the observance of all the established\r\nrites of their faith. The meeting-house burned in Philip\u0027s War was at\r\nonce replaced on the second settlement. Within a score of years this had\r\nbeen outgrown, and a third edifice erected. It was two stories, square,\r\nwith the roof rising from each of the sides to the turret in the centre.\r\nOf the interior finish a little is known. There were no pews; the\r\nworshippers were \"seated\" in fixed places, according to rules\r\nestablished in town-meeting, where the \"dignity\" of each rude bench was\r\nformally discussed and declared by vote. The women sat on the right of\r\nthe minister, and the men on the left. The boys and girls were stored\r\naway somewhere in nooks and corners, under the eye of the tythingmen. On\r\neach side of the entrance places were reserved where, on entering, the\r\nmen could deposit their loaded guns under the care of an appointed\r\nguard. While the faithful pastor was warning his devout hearers against\r\nthe wiles of the tempter within, the sentinel, stationed in the turret\r\nabove, watched all approaches, to guard against surprisal by an enemy\r\nwithout.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe communities of this period are often referred to as pure\r\ndemocracies, where each man was ranked equal to every other. This is far\r\nfrom the fact. There were real aristocratic distinctions in every town,\r\nnowhere more apparent than in meetings for religious worship. The truth\r\nappears to be that the settlers were still bound by the fetters of habit\r\nand custom brought from the\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 242]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e mother-land. Emancipation from its\r\naristocratic practices and social distinctions came only with the slow\r\ngrowth of democratic ideas and the overthrow of kingly rule.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eDWELLINGS.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe first houses of the settlers were doubtless of logs, one story high,\r\n\"daubed\" with clay. A common form was eighteen feet square, with seven\r\nfeet stud, stone fireplaces, with catted chimney, and a hip-roof covered\r\nwith thatch. These structures generally gave way in a few years to large\r\nframe houses, covered with \"clo\u0027boards\" and shingles, having fireplace\r\nand chimney of brick, which was laid in clay mortar, except the part\r\nabove the roof, where lime was used. Of these houses, two styles\r\nprevailed; one represented by the \"Old Indian House,\" the other, less\r\nelaborate, by the house now standing on the Smead lot. This house is\r\nthirty feet square, two stories, with pitch roof, facing the street\r\nwesterly. It is covered with cloveboards, apparently the original, with\r\nno signs of paint. It has four windows in front, and five at each end.\r\nThe front door, a little south of the centre, opens directly into the\r\nsouth front room, which is sixteen by eighteen feet. On the north of\r\nthis, is a huge chimney which rises through the ridge, and the north\r\nfront room, twelve by thirteen feet. North of the chimney is a large,\r\ndark closet. East of it is the kitchen, eleven by twenty feet, south of\r\nwhich is the buttery. Stairs to cellar and chambers occupy the southeast\r\ncorner. The space over the kitchen is unfinished. The southwest chamber\r\nis fifteen by fifteen, the northwest twelve by thirteen. Each story is\r\nseven and a half feet stud. The frame is of hewn timber, generally nine\r\nby fourteen inches. The plates are nine by sixteen; those at the ends in\r\nthe upper story project twelve inches over the walls, supported by the\r\nside plates, and studs on the inner edge. The rafters are sawed, four by\r\nfour inches, and supported by purlins which are framed into heavy beam\r\nrafters at the middle and each end of the roof. The whole building is of\r\npine. There was no lath and plaster; the walls were made of matched\r\nboards. The ceiling was finished by the joists and underside of the\r\nfloor above being planed; the floors were double or of matched boards.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe \"Old Indian House,\" built by John Sheldon, about 1698, stood at the\r\nnorth end of the training-field, facing the south.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 243]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e Its frame was\r\nlargely of oak. It was twenty-one by forty-two feet, two stories, with a\r\nsteep pitch roof. In front, the second story projected about two feet,\r\nthe ends of the cross-beams being supported by ornamental oak brackets,\r\ntwo of which are preserved in Memorial Hall. A lean-to thirteen and\r\na-half feet wide ran the whole length of the north side, its roof being\r\na continuation of that on the main building.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe ground floor was thus thirty-four and a-half by forty-two feet. From\r\nthe centre rose the chimney, about ten feet square at the base, with\r\nfireplaces on the sides and rear. South of it was the front entry,\r\nwhich, including the stairway, was eight by twelve feet. The lower floor\r\nwas laid under the sill, which, projecting beyond the wall, formed a\r\nledge around the bottom of the rooms wide enough for the children to sit\r\nupon. Stepping over the sill into the front entry, doors are seen on\r\neither hand opening into the front rooms; stairs on the right, lead, by\r\ntwo square landings and two turns to the left, to a passage over the\r\nentry, from which, at the right and left, doors lead to the chambers. In\r\nthe rear of the chimney is a small, dark room, with stairs to the\r\ngarret. Including the garret, there were five rooms in the main\r\nstructure, each of them lighted by two windows with diamond panes set in\r\nlead.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the centre of the lean-to was the kitchen, with windows in the rear;\r\neast of this was a bedroom, and west, the buttery and back entry. The\r\nfireplace was a deep cavern, the jambs and back at right angles to each\r\nother and the floor.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt the sides, hanging on spikes driven into pieces of wood built into\r\nthe structure for the purpose, were the long-handled frying-pan, the\r\npot-hook, the boring iron, the branding iron, the long iron peel, the\r\nroasting hook, the fire-pan, the scoop-shaped fire-shovel, with a trivet\r\nor two. The stout slice and tongs lean against the jambs in front.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn one end was the oven, its mouth flush with the back of the fireplace.\r\nIn this nook, when the oven was not in use, stood a wooden bench on\r\nwhich the children could sit and study the catechism and spelling-book\r\nby firelight, or watch the stars through the square tower above their\r\nheads, the view interrupted only by the black, shiny lug-pole, and its\r\ngreat trammels; or in the season, its burden of hams and flitches of\r\npork or venison, hanging to be cured in the smoke. The mantle-tree was a\r\nhuge beam of oak,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 244]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e protected from the blaze only by the current of cold\r\nair constantly ascending. The preparation of fuel was no light task, and\r\n\"building a fire\" was no misnomer. The foundation was a \"back-log,\" two\r\nor three feet in diameter; in front of this the \"fore-stick,\"\r\nconsiderably smaller, both lying on the ashes; on them lay the\r\n\"top-stick,\" half as big as the back-log. All these were usually of\r\ngreen wood. In front of this pile was a stack of split wood, branches,\r\nchips, and cobs, or, if cob-irons were present, the smaller wood was\r\nlaid horizontally across these. The logs would last several days, and be\r\nrenewed when necessary, but the fire was not allowed to go out. Should\r\nthis happen, the fire-pan was sent to a neighbor for coals, or the tin\r\nlantern with a candle for a light. In default of neighbors, the\r\ntinder-box, or flint-lock musket with a wad of tow were used to evoke a\r\nspark. \"Tending fire\" meant renewing the lighter parts of the fuel; for\r\nthis purpose, there was, in prudent families, a generous pile of dry\r\ncord-wood in the kitchen. With these appliances, considerable warmth was\r\nfelt in the room; the larger part of the heat, however, was lost up the\r\nhuge chimney. Fresh air rushed in at every crack and cranny to supply\r\nthis great draft; and, although the windows were small, and the walls\r\nlined with brick, there was no lack of ventilation. In this condition of\r\nthings, the high-backed settle in front of the blazing fire was a cozy\r\nseat. It was the place of honor for the heads of the family and\r\ndistinguished guests. Sometimes the settle was placed permanently on one\r\nside of the fireplace, the seat hung on leather hinges, under which was\r\nthe \"pot-hole,\" where smaller pots, spiders, skillets, and kettles were\r\nstored.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe fireplaces in the front rooms were of the same pattern, but smaller\r\nthan that in the kitchen. Fires were seldom built there except at\r\nweddings, funerals, or on state occasions. The furniture, for the most\r\npart home-made, rude and unpainted, was scanty—a few stools, benches,\r\nand split-bottomed chairs; a table or two, plain chests, rude, low\r\nbedsteads, with home-made ticks filled with straw or pine needles. The\r\nbest room may have had a carved oak chest, brought from England, a tent\r\nor field bedstead, with green baize, or white dimity curtains, and\r\ngenerous feather bed. The stout tick for this, the snow-white sheets,\r\nthe warm flannel blankets, and heavy woollen rugs, woven in checks of\r\nblack, or red, and white, or the lighter harperlet, were all the\r\nproducts of domestic wheel and loom. There were no carpets. The\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 245]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e floors\r\nwere sprinkled with fine, white sand, which, on particular occasions,\r\nwas brushed into fanciful patterns with a birch broom, or bundle of\r\ntwigs. The style of painting floors called \"marbling,\" hardly yet\r\nextinct, was a survival of this custom.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe finishing of the \"Indian House\" was more elaborate than that of the\r\nSmead house; but there was no lath and plaster, the ceiling being the\r\nsame. The partitions and walls were of wainscot-work, with mouldings\r\nabout the doors and windows. These mouldings were all cut by hand from\r\nsolid wood. In some cases the oak summer-tree was smoothed and left\r\nbare, with a capital cut on the supporting posts; generally, hereabouts,\r\nit was covered with plain boards,—it may be, in the best room, with\r\npanels. No finer lumber is found than that with which these old houses\r\nwere finished.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTheir massive frames, each stout tenon fitted to its shapely mortise by\r\nthe try rule, whose foundations were laid by our sires so long ago that\r\nthe unsubdued savage still roamed in the forest where its timbers were\r\nhewn, stand as firmly as when the master-builder dismissed the tired\r\nneighbors, who had heaved up the huge beams, and pinned the last rafter\r\nto its mate (for there were no ridgepoles) at the raising.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eAN EVENING AT HOME.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe ample kitchen was the centre of family life, social and industrial.\r\nHere around the rough table, seated on rude stools or benches, all\r\npartook of the plain and often stinted fare. A glance at the family\r\ngathered here after nightfall of a winter\u0027s day may prove of interest.\r\nAfter a supper of bean-porridge, or hominy and milk, which all partake\r\nin common from a great pewter basin, or wooden bowl, with spoons of\r\nwood, horn, or pewter; after a reverent reading of the Bible, and\r\nfervent supplication to the Most High for care and guidance; after the\r\nwatch was set on the tall mount, and the vigilant sentinel began pacing\r\nhis lonely beat, the shutters were closed and barred, and with a sense\r\nof security the occupations of the long winter evening began. Here was a\r\npicture of industry, enjoined alike by the law of the land and the stern\r\nnecessities of the settlers. All were busy. Idleness was a crime. On the\r\nsettle, or a low arm-chair, in the most sheltered nook, sat the revered\r\ngrandam—as a term of endearment called granny—in red woollen gown, and\r\nwhite linen cap; her gray hair\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 246]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e and wrinkled face reflecting the bright\r\nfirelight; the long stocking growing under her busy needles, while she\r\nwatched the youngling of the flock, in the cradle by her side. The\r\ngoodwife, in linsey-woolsey short gown and red petticoat, steps lightly\r\nback and forth in calf pumps beside the great wheel, or poises\r\ngracefully to give a final twist to the long-drawn thread of wool or\r\ntow. The continuous buzz of the flax wheels, harmonizing with the\r\nspasmodic hum of the big wheel, shows that the girls are preparing a\r\nstock of linen against their wedding day. Less active, and more fitful,\r\nrattles the quill-wheel, where the younger children are filling quills\r\nfor the morrow\u0027s weaving. Craftsmen are still scarce, and the yeoman\r\nmust depend largely on his own skill and resources. The grandsire, and\r\nthe goodman, his son, in blue woollen frocks, buckskin breeches, long\r\nstockings, and clouted brogans with pewter buckles, and the older boys,\r\nin shirts of brown tow, waistcoat and breeches of butternut-colored\r\nwoollen homespun, surrounded by piles of white hickory shavings, are\r\nwhittling out with keen Barlow jack-knives, implements for home\r\nuse,—ox-bows and bow-pins, axe-helves, rakestales, forkstales, handles\r\nfor spades and billhooks, wooden shovels, flail-staff and swingle,\r\nswingling knives, pokes and hog-yokes for unruly cattle and swine. The\r\nmore ingenious, perhaps, are fashioning buckets, or powdering tubs, or\r\nweaving skepes, baskets, or snow-shoes. Some, it may be, sit astride the\r\nwooden shovel, shelling corn on its iron-shod edge, while others are\r\npounding it into samp or hominy in the great wooden mortar.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere are no lamps or candles, but the red light from the burning pine\r\nknots on the hearth glows over all, repeating, in fantastic pantomime on\r\nthe brown walls and closed shutters, the varied activities around it.\r\nThese are occasionally brought into a higher relief by the white\r\nflashes, as the boys throw handfuls of hickory shavings on to the\r\nfore-stick, or punch the back-log with the long iron peel, while wishing\r\nthey had \"as many shillings as sparks go up chimney.\" Then, the\r\nsmoke-stained joists and boards of the ceiling, with the twisted rings\r\nof pumpkin, strings of crimson peppers, and festoons of apple, drying on\r\npoles hung beneath; the men\u0027s hats, the crook-necked squashes, the\r\nskeins of thread and yarn hanging in bunches on the wainscot; the sheen\r\nof the pewter plates and basins, standing in rows on the shelves of the\r\ndresser; the trusty firelock, with powder-horn, bandolier, and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 247]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\nbullet-pouch, hanging on the summer-tree, and the bright brass\r\nwarming-pan behind the bedroom door—all stand more clearly revealed for\r\nan instant, showing the provident care for the comfort and safety of the\r\nhousehold. Dimly seen in the corners of the room are baskets in which\r\nare packed hands of flax from the barn, where, under the flax-brake, the\r\nswingling-knife and coarse hackle, the shives and swingling tow have\r\nbeen removed by the men; to-morrow the more deft manipulations of the\r\nwomen will prepare these bunches of fibre for the little wheel, and\r\ngranny will card the tow into bats, to be spun into tow yarn on the big\r\nwheel. All quaff the sparkling cider or foaming beer, from the\r\nbriskly-circulating pewter mug, which the last out of bed in the morning\r\nmust replenish from the barrel in the cellar. But over all a grave\r\nearnestness prevails; there is little laughter or mirth, and no song to\r\ncheer the tired workers. If stories are told they are of Indian horrors,\r\nof ghosts, or of the fearful pranks of witchcraft.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis was the age of superstition. Women were hung for witches in Salem,\r\nand witchcraft believed in everywhere. Every untoward event was imputed\r\nto supernatural causes. Did the butter or soap delay its coming, the\r\nchurn and the kettle were bewitched. Did the chimney refuse to draw,\r\nwitches were blowing down the smoke. Did the loaded cart get stuck in\r\nthe mud, invisible hands were holding it. Did the cow\u0027s milk grow scant,\r\nthe imps had been sucking her. Did the sick child cry, search was made\r\nfor the witches\u0027 pins. Were its sufferings relieved by death, glances\r\nwere cast around to discover the malignant eye that doomed it. Tales of\r\nevents like these, so fascinating and so fearful, sent the adults, as\r\nwell as children to bed with blood chilled, every sense alert with fear,\r\nready to see a ghost in every slip of moonshine, and trace to malign\r\norigin every sound breaking the stillness—the rattle of a shutter, the\r\ncreak of a door, the moan of the winds or the cries of the birds and\r\nbeasts of the night. For more than a century later, the belief in\r\nwitchcraft kept a strong hold on the popular mind and had a marked\r\ninfluence on the character of the people.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor two or three evenings previous to Feb. 29, 1704, a new topic of\r\nsupernatural interest has been added to the usual stock. Ominous sounds\r\nhave been heard in the night, and, says Rev. Solomon Stoddard, \"the\r\npeople were strangely amazed by a trampling noise round the fort, as if\r\nit were beset by Indians.\" The\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 248]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e older men recalled similar omens before\r\nthe outbreak of Philip\u0027s War, when from the clear sky came the sound of\r\ntrampling horses, the roar of artillery, the rattle of small arms, and\r\nthe beating of drums to the charge. As these tales of fear, coupled with\r\ntheir own warning, were in everybody\u0027s mouth, what wonder if the hearts\r\nof the thoughtful sank within them; that they cowered with undefinable\r\ndread, as under the shadow of impending disaster; and asked each other\r\nwith fear and trembling the meaning of this new and dire portent. They\r\nhad not long to wait the answer.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEven then, only just beyond the northern horizon an avalanche was\r\nsweeping down to overwhelm the settlement. A horde of Frenchmen turned\r\nhalf Indian, and savages armed with civilized powers of destruction,\r\nunder Hertel de Rouville, a French officer of the line, were hurrying\r\ntowards our doomed frontier, over the dreary waste of snow which\r\nstretched away for three hundred miles to the St. Lawrence. In the dark\r\nshade of some secluded glen, or deep ravine, a day\u0027s march nearer our\r\nborder, each night their camp was pitched and kettles hung. Their fires\r\nlighted up the mossy trunks and overhanging branches of the giant\r\nhemlock and the towering pine, throwing their summits into a deeper\r\ngloom, and building up a wall of pitchy darkness which enclosed the camp\r\non every side.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA frugal supper, and quiet soon reigned within this circle; around each\r\ncamp-fire the tired forms of the invaders were soon stretched on beds of\r\nevergreens—great dark blotches, with luminous centres, on the crystal\r\nsnow—a sound sleep undisturbed by the relief of sentinels, or\r\nreplenishment of fires—up at dawn, a hasty breakfast, and onward. The\r\nnearer and nearer prospect of blood and plunder added new strength to\r\ntheir limbs, and sent new gleams of ferocity across their swart faces.\r\nDogs with sledges aided to transport the equipage of the camp, and the\r\nmarch was swift.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe errand of this horde was to murder the inhabitants and burn the\r\ndwellings of an unprotected town; its ultimate purpose was to please the\r\nAbenaki Indians of Maine. These Indians had complained to the governor\r\nof Canada about some fancied or real wrong done them by the English, and\r\nbegged for redress. The prayer of the savages, and the policy of the\r\nFrench, were in full accord, and this expedition was sent out to prove\r\nto the Indians\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 249]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e that the French were their friends and avengers. Its\r\nobject was accomplished.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLeaving the dogs, sledges, and such baggage as suited his purpose, at\r\nthe mouth of West River, under the shadow of Wantastiquet, De Rouville,\r\nwith scouts well advanced, pushed forward his eager army on its last\r\nday\u0027s march with caution and celerity, and reached the bluff overlooking\r\nour valley on the night of Feb. 28, 1703-4. Here, behind a low ridge,\r\nthe packs were unstrapped, the war-paint put on, and final preparations\r\nmade. Not long before dawn, at the darkest hour of the night, the attack\r\nwas made on the sleeping town with fire and sword.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMany attempts have been made to depict the shocking tragedies of this\r\ndreadful morning, but no pen or pencil ever has succeeded in fitly\r\nportraying the terrible reality, the ghastly horrors of this crowning\r\nevent in the life of a frontier town.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eTRUST.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY J. B. M. WRIGHT.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eThere\u0027s a lesson ever hiding\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eDeep within the floweret\u0027s cell,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eOf an endless trust abiding\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eSafe with Him who guideth well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eAs the flowers are ever gazing\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eTo the land above the stars,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eWe, our earnest life upraising,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eLook beyond life\u0027s sunset bars,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eWith our eager footsteps wending,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eStrive to reach the summits grand,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eWhere, the past and future blending,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eHis own guardian angels stand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 250]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eELIZABETH.\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_E_5\"\u003e[E]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eA ROMANCE OF COLONIAL DAYS.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBy Frances C. Sparhawk\u003c/span\u003e, Author of \"A Lazy Man\u0027s Work.\"\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eCHAPTER XXXII.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eTHE CAPITULATION.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt was the fifteenth of June. The expected ships had joined Commodore\r\nWarren, and his fleet of eleven men-of-war bore into the harbor. Signals\r\nhad been agreed upon between the two commanders. The brush was piled\r\nupon Green Hill ready to send its columns of flame into the air when the\r\nDutch flag at the mast-head of Warren\u0027s ship should announce that he was\r\nready.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eUnder the inspiring promise of this flag, and in the blaze of the\r\nanswering signals, the troops, with drums beating and colors flying,\r\nwere to rush to the assault. Archdale\u0027s opinion, that heavy guns at the\r\nlighthouse would be disastrous to their old enemy the Island Battery,\r\nhad been confirmed by two Swiss deserters, and that place was now almost\r\nuntenable under a galling fire. The Circular Battery, built to protect\r\nthe entrance to the city, was little better than a mass of ruins, while\r\nthe fire that morning from Pepperell\u0027s fascine batteries was so hot that\r\nthe enemy could not stand to their guns. Land and sea trembled with the\r\nshock of the cannonade. In the midst of all this Warren came ashore. The\r\ntroops were drawn up as if for parade, and the Commodore addressed them\r\nin a few spirited words which stirred their devotion to the flag under\r\nwhich they were fighting. Then Pepperell stepped forward and swept his\r\nkeen eyes along the ranks of the men. He had a knowledge of them and an\r\ninterest in them that Warren could not even understand. To the\r\nEnglishman they were so many soldiers eager to uphold the honor of the\r\nBritish nation, and he was proud of them. But Pepperell saw the forests\r\nto be hewn, the fields to be reclaimed from the wilderness, the cities\r\nyet unbuilded. He saw the life, great, though half its greatness was not\r\ndreamed of, that was to pour in through this gate which to-day\u0027s work\r\nwas to open. For, not only that fear and hatred of Popery\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 251]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e which marked\r\nhis age, but, already, that American love of liberty, to which\r\npriestcraft is so inimical, burned within him. A touch of Winkelried\u0027s\r\nfervor kindled his eye. If into his breast, and into the breasts of his\r\ncomrades, the bayonets of the enemy were to be planted, yet should a way\r\nbe made for his countrymen.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Soldiers,\" he said, \"some of you fellow-citizens, and all of you\r\nfellow-workers in a great cause, I have no fear of you. I have good\r\nreason to know your persistence, and your undaunted courage. Our mother\r\nEngland needs us to-day. She has not demanded this work of us, for she\r\nhas thought of us as children. Shall she find us grown to brawny\r\nmanhood?\" A deafening cheer rolled from rank to rank to answer him.\r\n\"Foes assail her, and the enemy\u0027s hand is at her throat. Have we the\r\nglorious privilege of striking it down? Yes! To-day.\" Again cheer on\r\ncheer burst from the ranks, and rose above the roar of the cannon.\r\n\"Then, let us spring to our work with nerves of steel, and arms of iron,\r\nand hearts of oak, like our ships that outride the storm, like our trees\r\nthat laugh at the gale. But, look! it is we who command the gale, for it\r\nis our cannon that thunder. The enemy\u0027s—they are faint and fainter in\r\nreply. Their gates are broken down; their walls are broken down; their\r\nhearts quake within them, for all their gallant front. My brave\r\nsoldiers, remember your comrades who lie here in their graves, and carry\r\nhome to their sorrowing families the news that they have not died in\r\nvain; and carry home to your rejoicing families the assurance that you\r\nhave not lived in vain. For more than that homes shall be peaceful, more\r\nthan that hearts shall be happy, is it that religion shall be free. But\r\none thing let us remember: strong hearts are not boastful; not in our\r\nown might do we go forth to this battle. \u0027\u003ci\u003eChristo duec\u003c/i\u003e,\u0027—\u0027with Christ\r\nfor our leader,\u0027—this is our courage. Our flag, whose motto ends with\r\nthis, may well begin, \u0027\u003ci\u003eNil desperandum\u003c/i\u003e—\u0027Never despair.\u0027 We never have\r\ndespaired; we have known only hope, and now hope is to become a\r\ncertainty. On you rests the glory of making it so. On you. The enemy is\r\nours \u003ci\u003eto-day\u003c/i\u003e! Louisburg is ours \u003cspan\u003eTO-DAY\u003c/span\u003e! When you look toward the fleet\r\nand see the red flag at the mast-head of the \u0027Superbe;\u0027 when you look\r\ntoward the hill and see the three columns of smoke rise up—then in your\r\nmight, in the might of Christ, your Leader, march on! Fight! Conquer!\r\nAnd draw breath only within the walls of Louisburg!\"\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 252]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the tumult of applause that followed this appeal the commanders\r\nturned toward one another. Warren was about to go back to his ship and\r\ngive the final orders for bringing the fleet into action at once; for\r\nthe lengthening shadows gave warning that the day was waning, and that\r\nit was time for plan and speech to ripen into action. With a word of\r\nparting, they clasped hands briefly, and the Commodore had already\r\nturned to enter his boat, when, with his face toward the city, he\r\nsuddenly stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Look!\" he said to Pepperell. \"Who is that?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"A white flag, as I live!\" cried the General, watching the captain in\r\ncommand of the advance battery, who was going forward to receive the\r\nFrench officer. \"Yes,\" he continued, as Duchambou\u0027s letter was handed to\r\nhim. \"See! he asks time to consider terms of capitulation.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter a few hasty orders, by which truce succeeded war, the commanders\r\nwere seated in Pepperell\u0027s tent, their voices seeming to themselves to\r\nring out strangely in the silence about them. The soldiers, flushed with\r\ndesire for victory, rested upon their arms in an impatient acquiescence,\r\nand Pepperell himself, who, as a commander, rejoiced in the thought that\r\nbloodshed might be prevented, yet turned martial eyes upon his companion\r\nfor a moment, and said, stifling a sigh:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"They\u0027d have gone at it splendidly!\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes,\" answered the Commodore; \"but this is better. Only we must not\r\ngive those ships time to come up, or Duchambou may change his mind, and\r\nwe may have our fight on worse terms.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I agree with you perfectly,\" answered Pepperell. \"We will be no\r\nsticklers for trifles.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnother boat beside the Commodore\u0027s had lain rocking on the tide in the\r\nshallow water while the General was speaking to his men. At the end of\r\nhis address the oars were plied vigorously, and the boat shot out from\r\nthe shore. Suddenly, by tacit consent, every oar hung poised on the\r\nboat\u0027s edge, and the stalwart rowers, bending forward with upturned\r\nfaces, remained motionless, their eyes fastened upon some object on\r\nshore.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes, it\u0027s a white flag!\" said one of them at last. \"Truce? Aint we\r\ngoing to have a chance at the \u0027\u003ci\u003eparley-vous\u003c/i\u003e?\u0027\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA murmur of disappointment answered him.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 253]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I do believe they\u0027ve struck,\" said another. And the oars began to be\r\nmoved again, as if the sooner their work was over the sooner the pliers\r\nwould learn what they were anxious to know.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"What are you saying?\" cried Mr. Royal. \"What\u0027s that about truce?\" he\r\nadded to the man next him.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Don\u0027t know, sir,\" the man answered.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Don\u0027t you see the officer with the white flag going up to the General?\"\r\nvolunteered another.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Stop!\" cried Mr. Royal, decidedly. \"Wait a moment. If there\u0027s a truce,\r\nI\u0027m not going to Canso yet.\" The boat was almost at the side of the\r\nwaiting vessel, and the men exchanged looks of impatience, although they\r\ncomplied at once.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"There\u0027s Col. Vaughan,\" said Nancy. \"See! he\u0027s there beside the General,\r\nand he looks as cross as can be.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Then you may be sure the engagement is put off,\" returned Elizabeth.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I shall not leave yet. I will go back to shore,\" said her father, glad\r\nto return to a place which only consideration for his daughter\u0027s safety\r\nhad induced him to leave at that time.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey had just stepped upon the beach again when the General came up,\r\naccompanied by Commodore Warren.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"They\u0027re going to surrender,\" said Pepperell to Elizabeth, as the two\r\ncommanders bowed, and passed on hastily.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo Elizabeth did not go to Canso, where the hospitals had been removed.\r\nIn the light of after events she felt sometimes that it might have been\r\nbetter if she had gone.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTwo days later Pepperell marched into Louisburg, at the head of his\r\ntroops. The French, who were to depart with the honors of war and to\r\nsail for France, were drawn up, as if on parade, to receive the\r\nvictorious army. The colonial volunteers looked at the battered\r\ndefences, which were still strong enough to have resisted them longer if\r\na combined attack had not been threatened, and they said to one\r\nanother:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It takes our General to capture a Gibraltar. We should all have been in\r\nour graves if we had obeyed Governor Shirley, and begun by assault.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom the window of a house overlooking the square, Elizabeth and her\r\nfaithful attendant watched the whole ceremony of giving\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 254]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e and taking\r\nformal possession of the city, the exchange of salutations between the\r\nFrench troops and their conquerors, and the departure of the former,\r\nwith drums beating and colors flying, to embark for France under a\r\ntwelve months\u0027 parole. When all was over, and she still sat there, her\r\neyes full of proud tears at the glory of her country, a voice behind her\r\nsaid:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Do you remember the agreement we made?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe turned, surprised, her lashes still wet.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I didn\u0027t hear you coming,\" she answered. \"You mean when I said I should\r\nlike to be invited to walk through Louisburg?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I should be glad, by and by, if you have leisure; although I suppose\r\nthat everybody will have that now.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHe smiled. \"If you saw Pepperell\u0027s tasks, you wouldn\u0027t think so.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Then, I suppose that you are busy, too, and everybody else?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes. Shall I come for you at sunset?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe words seemed to sound over and over again in Elizabeth\u0027s\r\nears,—words, in themselves, almost ungracious, but which his tone had\r\nmade to mean, \"No business ranks your pleasure.\" Already they had\r\nreturned to the courtesies of peace. She could not answer in a different\r\nspirit; she must abide by the idle words he had remembered, and go. Her\r\nwork here was over. Many of her patients had been sent home, and all\r\nwere well cared for now.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSunset in the middle of June, and in that latitude, was only the\r\nburnished gate-way to a beautiful twilight that lingered as if loath to\r\nleave the land it loved. The city lay as tranquil as if no bombshell had\r\never burst over it, or no alien force now held possession of it.\r\nSoldiers were everywhere; but order reigned. Voices were heard, and\r\nlaughter; but not even rudeness assailed the inhabitants, who, while\r\nwaiting for transportation, had received a promise of protection in\r\ntheir shattered homes. These ventured out now, in the new immunity from\r\ncannon-balls, to examine the ruins of their city.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"We\u0027ve done a good deal of damage in six weeks to a fortress that it\r\ntook thirty years to build,\" said Archdale to Elizabeth. \"There are only\r\nthree whole houses left in the city.\" As he spoke they were passing by\r\ngaping walls and shattered gun-carriages.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 255]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e They walked through entire\r\nstreets where the buildings, all more or less demolished, showed at\r\nevery point the cruelties of war. At one place they heard voices coming\r\nfrom a roofless dwelling, which proved that its inmates still called it\r\nhome, and clung to the poor shelter that it gave.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Take care!\" cried Stephen, drawing her back suddenly. And as he spoke,\r\na stone from the high wall lost the balance it had precariously kept,\r\nand fell almost at her feet. \"We will walk in the middle of the street,\"\r\nhe said, and they went on again, she leaning lightly on the arm he\r\noffered her through the ways rough and often obstructed. It all seemed\r\nlike nothing else that had ever been with them, or ever would be with\r\nthem again. The city, wrecked by the storm that had raged against it,\r\nlay in the stillness of hopelessness, and the moon that rose before the\r\ntwilight had begun to fade made the calmness appear deeper in sight of\r\nthe destruction that had brought death. It seemed to Elizabeth like\r\nArchdale\u0027s own life.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Do you know where Mr. Royal is?\" he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I am not anxious about him,\" she answered, with a smile. \"He is well\r\nprovided for in every way at General Pepperell\u0027s banquet.\" She stopped\r\nsuddenly, and turned to Stephen. \"That is where you ought to be, too,\"\r\nshe said; \"and you are here on account of my thoughtless speech.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Not so at all,\" he answered, with decision. \"To be walking here with\r\nyou is what I like best.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe understood that her knowledge of his suffering and her sympathy made\r\nthis very natural. That evening for the first time they spoke of Katie.\r\nHe said that it seemed strange to him that the thought of her had so\r\nlittle power over him.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It will all come back with the old life,\" she answered; \"that seems\r\nbroken now, but we shall take it up again.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Where we left it?\" he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I think so,\" she answered him.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHe said nothing, for he did not himself understand what it was that\r\nmoved him so, and why he should be so eager to deny what must be true.\r\nOnly one thing was clear to him: that nothing must break the peace of\r\nthis evening. This was real in the midst of so much that seemed unreal,\r\nand beautiful in the midst of confusion. They went on for a time in a\r\nmood that Archdale\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 256]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e dreaded to break in upon. But there was something\r\nthat he must tell her, lest she should learn it in a still harder way.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I have news,\" he began at last, reluctantly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"News?\" she cried. \"From home? About any one there? Not bad?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes, bad, but not from home at all. News that I wish you need never\r\nhear; but this cannot be helped; and I know all that can be known about\r\nthe matter. Shall I tell you?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes,\" she answered, faintly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It is about Edmonson.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I thought so.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"And Harwin.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes. They\"—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"They fought,\" he finished,—\"yes. I don\u0027t know how they managed it, nor\r\nhow Harwin could leave the fleet, but in some way he did.\" The speaker\r\npaused.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Well?\" she said, tremulously, after a silence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Harwin was killed.\" Archdale felt her hand tighten its grasp. \"And\r\nEdmonson,\" he added. Suddenly she drew away from him, and looked at him\r\nsearchingly, her breath coming unevenly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"What!\" she gasped. \"Both! Both of them! Two deaths! How could it be?\r\nTell me what you mean.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That is what I mean. It is true. Edmonson, you remember, willed, at\r\nlast, to recover, and he did so rapidly, that is, he was well enough to\r\ngo about, though not to report for duty. How he and Harwin arranged\r\nmatters, or met in the lonely spot in which they were found, I can\u0027t\r\nexplain,—nobody can. Evidently, it was a duel, and it appears to have\r\nbeen without seconds, to make the matter more secret. Each must have\r\ngiven the other his death, for they were found—But I need not tell you\r\nall this.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes, tell me how you are sure that they both—died in the duel.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Edmonson must have given the death-wound first, for it seemed as if\r\nHarwin, in an expiring agony, had sprung upon him and stabbed him to the\r\nheart, as he fell himself.\" Elizabeth stood motionless, her face turned\r\naway and one hand over her eyes. \"The news was brought to the General\r\nyesterday morning, and he sent me over to investigate,\" added Archdale\r\nafter a pause, in which he had studied her with the utmost attention.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 257]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuddenly she turned quite away from him with a low moan. \"It is\r\nterrible, terrible!\" she said under her breath. \"And I—I—Oh, take me\r\nback to the house!\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs Archdale obeyed, they went on without speaking, she no longer holding\r\nhis arm, but shrinking into herself as if she would have liked to be\r\ninvisible altogether.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I think,\" she said at last, slowly, \"that I ought to have been willing\r\nto go to Canso. Perhaps I could have prevented the meeting by having\r\nthem watched, or in some way. Of course I can\u0027t tell. But I ought not to\r\nhave been selfish, and ask to stay here.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe had almost reached the house as she said this.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"You, selfish!\" he cried.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut he fancied that she did not hear him, for she only repeated: \"I\r\nought not to have been so selfish,\" and after a moment, as she stepped\r\nupon the threshold, added, \"Thank you; but I should not have gone if I\r\nhad known. Good-night.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHe was alone in the moonlight; in a mood greatly at variance with the\r\ntranquil sky that he stood looking into vaguely. Was Elizabeth suffering\r\nonly because she was connected, though so innocently, with this dreadful\r\nthing? Was this all? It must be. And yet,—and yet people could love\r\nwhere they despised,—there was Katie.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThen he saw that not only sympathy for Elizabeth had made him speak, but\r\nthe desire to see how Edmonson\u0027s death affected her. Well, after all, he\r\nhad not seen anything clearly, and he was neither proud of himself, nor\r\nhappy, as he walked away.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eCHAPTER XXXIII.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eCOMPENSATION.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes, Boston has gone wild,\" asserted Colonel Archdale a week after the\r\nnews of the capture of Louisburg. He was in his brother\u0027s house, with\r\nMr. Archdale, his wife, and Katie, as eager listeners. \"And not only\r\nBoston,\" he went on, \"but New York and Philadelphia, too. As to Boston,\r\nthere has never been anything like it since the place was founded.\r\nCaptain Bennett got in with the news about one o\u0027clock the morning of\r\nthe third. But they didn\u0027t fire the salvos until daylight. Then the\r\nbells rang—oh!\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 258]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e how they rang!—and the streets filled like magic. The\r\ncannon fired, the people shouted and wept for pride and joy. All day\r\nlong crowds kept pouring in from the towns round about, and at night\r\nthere was not a house in the city or near it that was not illuminated.\r\nPepperell\u0027s official report was very interesting. Part of it was read to\r\nthe people; but I saw the document. He speaks handsomely of Commodore\r\nWarren, which was to be expected of him; and he says that he believes\r\nthere never were such rains seen before, \u0027which,\u0027 he adds, \u0027is not\r\nperhaps to be wondered at, for we gave the town about nine thousand\r\ncannon-balls and six hundred bombs before it surrendered;\u0027 and he said,\r\ntoo, that \u0027the day of the flag of truce the fire from Island Battery\r\nmade some of the gunners run into the sea for shelter.\u0027\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Has Elizabeth returned?\" asked Katie, after further details of the\r\nsurrender had been given.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes; she came home with her father in Captain Bennett\u0027s ship. I saw her\r\nthat same day.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"How is she?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Very well; she looks worn, however; she must have worked hard. She is a\r\nstrange young lady,—very charming, though.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes, indeed; as good as gold,\" assented Katie, wondering if Elizabeth\u0027s\r\nfatigue had seriously injured her good looks. She wondered, also, if\r\nStephen were any more reconciled to his fate. But she did not ask this.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I suppose Stephen has not come home yet,\" said her mother at the\r\nmoment.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"He will not be here at present. He wrote me that Pepperell needed him\r\nthere.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNew England was full of the elation that a youth feels at having given\r\nevidence of manly prowess. For the idea of the expedition had been born\r\nin the colonial brain, and the enterprise had been carried through by\r\ncolonial nerve, muscle, and endurance. The very sinews of war had come\r\nfrom New England. Days of thanksgiving were appointed. The soldiers who\r\nreturned broken down by wounds or illness found welcome and aid, and the\r\nfamilies of those who had died in the service were considered by some as\r\nopportunities for proving the gratitude they felt for victory. Europe\r\nwas amazed at the exploit, and England had good reason to remember a\r\nconquest which counterbalanced the disasters that\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 259]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e she had met with on\r\nthe Continent, and was the best achievement of the war of 1744. News\r\nsoon came that Warren had been made Admiral, and their own soldier,\r\nPepperell, created a Baronet.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne perfect afternoon in September Katie set out through the fields to\r\nher uncle\u0027s house. The walk was not too long when one went across lots.\r\nShe would perhaps stay to tea, and then the Colonel would send her home.\r\nShe felt that it was very nice in all the family not to resent her\r\nchange of mind in regard to Stephen. That day she went on in happy mood.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt last she crossed the little bridge over the creek, and walked slowly\r\nup to the house, wondering that she had found neither of her cousins on\r\nthe river this beautiful day. They would have taken her across the\r\nstream, and saved her the distance down the bank to the bridge, and up\r\nthe long avenue on the other side. But it was cool under the arching\r\ntrees. She sauntered on. Exercise had brightened her color a little, but\r\nit was still as delicate as the petal of a rose; her eyes, too, were\r\nfull of brightness; her mouth, with its beautiful curves, was\r\nbewitching. Altogether, a more graceful figure, in its white dress, and\r\na more perfect face, had seldom made their way through a vista of summer\r\nfoliage. Was it her fault if too critical an observer missed in the face\r\nthose shadowy lines that nothing but thought can draw, and in the eyes\r\nthat peculiar clear depth of shining that comes only when fires of pain\r\nhave burned into the soul, and purified it, and made it luminous? The\r\nshadows of the great trees above her flickered over her face, and did\r\ntheir best to make up the defect, and her long lashes threw a beautiful\r\nshade around the bright brown eyes. A young life that suffering has\r\nnever touched has a wonderful charm in its exemption. It is only when\r\nsuffering fails in its work that something is missed in the face it has\r\npassed over.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs she came near the house she saw that the hall door stood open. She\r\nthought that her uncle, or one of the girls, was there. With a smile of\r\ngreeting she ran the few more steps up the avenue, and standing on the\r\nthreshold, called merrily:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Here am I! Where are you, somebody? Uncle Walter? Faith?\" Then she gave\r\na cry of surprise, and, holding out her hand without any embarrassment,\r\nsaid:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Stephen! you at home? I hadn\u0027t heard of it. When did you come?\"\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 260]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eArchdale stood a moment motionless, looking at her fixedly. Then he came\r\nforward mechanically and took her hand, still staring at her, in what\r\nseemed to her a kind of bewilderment, until she again asked when he had\r\nreturned, and hoped that he had escaped wounds and illness in the siege.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes,\" he said, at last, in what seemed to her an unnatural way, \"I am\r\nquite well, thank you.\" After a pause he added, \"I was coming this\r\nevening to see you all. I reached here only to-day.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Come back with me,\" she answered, \"and\"—she hesitated a moment, then,\r\nfeeling that it was better for poor Stephen to have the encounter over\r\nat once, since he must bear the pain of it, she busied herself with\r\nlooking through the open door of the drawing-room, and added,—\"You will\r\nmeet Lord Bulchester there; he is coming this evening.\" In spite of\r\nherself she turned pale, and her eyelids drooped.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut Stephen held out his hand with a coolness that she told herself was\r\nadmirably assumed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I congratulate you,\" he said. \"He is a much better match than I am. He\r\nis a good fellow, too, else I shouldn\u0027t be glad, my dear cousin.\" He had\r\nnot called her cousin for years, not since their betrothal, and Katie\r\nlooked up at him. Their eyes met.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter her return that evening, and after Stephen had left his uncle\u0027s\r\nhouse, she sat talking listlessly with Lord Bulchester. She was thinking\r\nover the account of the death of Harwin and of Edmonson. She had learned\r\nthe details that afternoon. They were dreadful, she thought.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe perceived something of the truth as to this duel. She knew now, as\r\nshe had told her mother before, that Harwin was not a man to love to his\r\ndeath; it was Elizabeth\u0027s suitor who had done that. And Katie, at the\r\nmoment lightly touched by the crime and the horror, sat lost in\r\ncontemplation of something that did move her deeply.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Yes,\" she said to herself, \"it was she, not I, who had the power. And\r\nnow? Yes, now, is it still not I? How very strange!\"\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 261]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eCHAPTER XXXIV.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eIN THE STORM.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDrip! drip! fell the rain that day, two weeks after Stephen Archdale\u0027s\r\nreturn from Louisburg. It was an easterly drizzle that, looked at from\r\nthe window, seemed to be merely time wasted, for the rain appeared to be\r\namounting to nothing; but if one tried it, he found it chilling,\r\npenetrating, and gloomy enough. To Archdale, as he plodded through the\r\nmuddy streets, Boston had never looked so dismal; yet within the last\r\nten days he had tasted enough of its hospitality to have had the memory\r\nof its smiling faces lighten his gloom. But another memory overshadowed\r\nthese. He had not been to see Mistress Royal during his stay in town. He\r\nwondered if this neglect seemed strange to her, or if she had not even\r\nnoticed it. Of course, fêted and flattered as she was, the heroine of\r\nthe hour, though bearing her honors under protest, she had not wasted\r\nher thoughts upon him. He was doing her injustice here, and he felt sure\r\nof it; she had thought of his meetings with Katie. But her very sympathy\r\nwas what he wanted least of all; it was as strong a defence as the walls\r\nof Louisburg.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat did he want? Why had he not been to see her? Why should he go? The\r\nmist and dimness of the day were nothing to the obscurity in his own\r\nmind. All that he was quite sure of was, that whenever he had received\r\nan invitation, and the heroes of Louisburg had had lionizing enough, he\r\nhad thought, first of all that he should meet Elizabeth Royal; yet when\r\nhe had met her he had never talked much to her; but by stealth he had\r\nwatched her constantly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThat morning he was walking toward her home. Should he go in and ask for\r\nher? He slackened his steps as he drew near. But what should he say to\r\nher? Commonplaces? He went on.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eElizabeth happened to go to the window as Archdale was disappearing down\r\nthe street. Since his return an arrangement had been made to pay back\r\nthe money that she had put into the Archdale firm, and a part of this\r\nhad been already paid; the rest was to follow soon. It was no wonder\r\nthat Mr. Archdale wanted to be rid of all thought of her, since she had\r\nmade him lose what\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 262]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e he valued most in the world. After a time she turned\r\nback to the open fire again and took up her book; but she did not read\r\nmuch. \"Is it possible,\" she said to herself at last, \"that it annoys me\r\nbecause he does not treat me as the rest do, as if I had done something\r\nwonderful? He knows better. And surely I have done him injury enough to\r\nmake him wish never to see me again.\" Again she sat with her book in her\r\nlap and thinking. \"There was a charm in that terrible life at Louisburg\r\nthat I cannot find here,\" she said to herself at last. \"I suppose I am\r\nnot made for gayety. He was one of the figures in it, and he recalls it.\r\nBut all that life has gone, and he with it.\" Then she was shocked at a\r\ndisposition that could prefer bloodshed to peace. No; it certainly was\r\nnot this: it was because for once she had been a little useful. She felt\r\nsure that Stephen Archdale had met Katie, and, as he went down the\r\nstreet past the house that rainy morning, Elizabeth\u0027s thoughts followed\r\nhim with a pity all the more deep that it would be compelled to be\r\nforever silent.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA week went by,—a week of weather that had all the sultriness of\r\nAugust. Mrs. Eveleigh, more amazed at each added day of this, predicted\r\ncalamity, and urged Elizabeth to give up an excursion that she had\r\npromised to take down the harbor with a party of friends. Sir Temple and\r\nLady Dacre, who had spent the summer in Canada, and had returned to\r\nBoston, were among the guests; indeed, the party had been made for them,\r\nand, as the dainty yacht sped out to sea, none were more pleased with\r\nit, and with being in it, than Lady Dacre.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eArchdale was nearer Mistress Royal than he had been since their walks\r\nand talks together at Louisburg. But Sir Temple Dacre had seized upon\r\nher almost at starting, and when the yacht ran ashore for the party to\r\nstroll under the trees on the point and to lunch there, the conversation\r\nwas still going on. Sir Temple was asking Elizabeth about her late\r\nexperiences and observations; he found the first very interesting, and\r\nthe latter unusually keen.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs the company grouped themselves upon the beach, however, Elizabeth\r\nfound Archdale beside her.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I want you to see the waves from that point,\" he said. \"It puts me in\r\nmind of one of the juttings of the shore up there.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe walked on with him, and two of her companions, who had heard the\r\nremark, followed, desirous, as they said, to get a sight\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 263]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e of anything\r\nthat could give them a hint of Louisburg. Elizabeth would not spoil\r\nArchdale\u0027s satisfaction by saying that she saw no resemblance. She\r\nlistened while he answered the questions of the others, and by\r\nsuggestions and reminders she led him on to vivid descriptions of one of\r\nthe incidents of the siege. In talking he constantly referred to her.\r\n\"You remember,\" he said, sometimes; or at others, \"You were not there;\"\r\nor, again, \"It was on such a day,\" recalling some event with which she\r\nwas connected. It seemed to Archdale very soon when the summons came to\r\nlunch.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I haven\u0027t enjoyed myself so much for a long time. I hope we are not\r\ngoing home yet,\" protested Lady Dacre, as the party went on board again.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"No, indeed!\" cried Archdale. \"Where should you like to go, Lady Dacre?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHer ladyship pointed to a line of shore a few miles distant. \"Is that\r\ntoo far?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Not if the wind holds good,\" returned another of the party so promptly\r\nthat a sailor, who was about to speak, drew back again with a frown, and\r\ncontented himself with muttering something to his companions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor a time the wind was fair; but when they had gone two-thirds of the\r\ndistance it failed them. The boat lay, rocking a little, but with no\r\nonward progress, her sails hanging flabby and motionless. Gradually\r\nlaughter and jest ceased from the lips of the pleasure-seekers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"A shower coming up,\" said Sir Temple Dacre, in a tone that he wished to\r\nmake unconcerned. But it was not a mere shower that threatened, but\r\nsomething more awful in the brassy heavens, the stifling atmosphere, the\r\nclouds that had gathered with a swiftness unprecedented in that region.\r\nThe air seemed to have receded behind the clouds to swell the fury of\r\nthe tempest that was coming. The stillness was full of horror; it seemed\r\nlike the uplifting of a weapon to strike. The reticence of the sailors\r\nwas ominous. This calm had fallen so suddenly that the boat had not been\r\nable to reach land, or even water more sheltered. It must meet the full\r\nfury of the tempest.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe lightning began to play incessantly. The thunder had a sound of\r\nstruggle, as if the giant of the skies were breaking his fetters.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 264]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt length the listeners heard a sullen roar more prolonged than the\r\ntempest, and the wind was upon them. The little vessel shivered and flew\r\nbefore it. It swept past the cove that the sailors had hoped to enter,\r\nand bore down with terrible speed toward the rocky coast beyond. The\r\nsails had been furled, but the wind and the water needed no aid. The\r\nrain came, a blinding deluge; the forked bolts seemed to have set the\r\nair on fire; the crash of the thunder and the roar of the wind and the\r\nwater all mingled together.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe company had scattered. Only a few had gone into the little cabin,\r\nthe rest preferring to take what small chance the freedom of the deck\r\nmight give them. With all conventionalities swept away, they were\r\nthemselves as their companions had never seen them before and never\r\nwould again. Some were crouched on the deck, with sobs and cries for\r\nhelp; some knelt in silent prayer, and others sat with a stoicism of\r\nbearing that their paleness and anxious eyes showed was superficial.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eElizabeth, with an unconquerable desire to meet death upon her feet,\r\nstood clinging to the mast. She had thrust her arm through a rope about\r\nit, and so could resist the wind which, as she stood, was somewhat\r\nbroken to her by the mast. Archdale, catching by one thing and another,\r\ncame toward her. Slipping one arm into the rope, he put the other about\r\nher in a firm support.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe looked up at him. She remembered him as she had seen him during the\r\nsiege, imperturbable in a storm of shot. \"You have faced death many\r\ntimes before,\" she said.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Never with you beside me. The dread of this is that I cannot save you.\"\r\nAnd then, as he looked at her, all that he had come to understand, and\r\nhad meant to break to her so slowly, lest she should be startled away\r\nfrom him, broke from him at once in impetuous speech. \"But death with\r\nyou, Elizabeth,\" he cried, \"is better to me than life without you. I\r\nhave known it for only a little time; I can\u0027t tell how long it has been\r\ntrue. But, in face of death, you shall know it. Don\u0027t think me fickle.\r\nYou know better than any one else how I played out that game to the\r\nbitter end,—no, the happy end,—for at this moment I would rather stand\r\nhere five minutes and speak out my heart to you, and feel that you love\r\nme, and die in your love, Elizabeth, than spend a\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 265]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e long life by Katie\r\nArchdale\u0027s side. My darling, I am selfish. I would send you away to\r\nsafety if I could; but I must be glad to have you here beside me.\" For\r\nshe was clinging to him, and her head, that had from the first been bent\r\nto avoid the wind, was almost upon his shoulder. A moment ago he had\r\nthought that this would be enough to comfort him if she did not turn\r\nfrom him; now it was not even the beginning, it was only a divine\r\npossibility. He bent over her. \"Before it is too late, my darling,\" he\r\nsaid.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut she did not speak. Only, after a moment, she raised her head, and\r\ntheir eyes met.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe wind shrieked in its fury, the water seethed and hissed, and the\r\nboat rushed on toward the rocks. The two turned their eyes away to watch\r\nthe sea, and then back again upon each other.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It is the water that unites us again,\" said Archdale, \"and this time\r\nforever. My wife, kiss me once here before eternity come.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Have you no hope?\" she asked him.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It is cruel,\" he answered. \"No, I have none. When we touch the rocks\r\nthe boat will go to pieces in an instant. And look at the sea.\" She\r\nraised her lips to his as he bent over her; no color came into her face;\r\nshe was already at the gates of death. She spoke a few low words to\r\nArchdale, and then they stood together in silence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThrough the blackness of the storm they saw the turrets of foam where\r\nthe water was raging over the hidden rocks. Elizabeth shivered. \"My\r\nfather!\" she said, brokenly. Stephen could speak no word of comfort. He\r\ncould only clasp her more closely as they waited for the fatal crash.\r\nHis eyes now rested upon hers, and now measured the distance between the\r\nboat and the breakers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"What does it mean?\" he cried at last. \"We are not going directly upon\r\nthem now! Can the wind have veered? O God! is there any chance? any of\r\nlife with you, Elizabeth? No, it cannot be.\" His voice had an\r\nunsteadiness that his conviction of the destruction that they were\r\nrushing upon had not given it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe wind had veered, and in veering had fallen a very little. It no\r\nlonger rained in such torrents; but the rain had been a discomfort\r\nunnoticed in the danger. The wind, still furious, and the\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 266]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e rocks which\r\nthey were nearing, left no one in the boat, thought for the rain.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt grew a little lighter. The vessel gave herself a shake, not like the\r\nstraining of the moments before, and rushed on. Yet the wind had lost\r\nsomething of its force, and it was not now driving directly against the\r\nrocks, as Archdale had seen. It might veer and fall still more before\r\nthey should be reached. There was still terrible danger; but there was,\r\nat least, one chance of escape.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo the minutes went by. The rocks grew plainer to the watchers until it\r\nseemed to them probable that they were passing over the outermost ones.\r\nBut, if the boat could round the point before her without striking, it\r\nwould find a smoother shore beyond.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith the brightening of the prospect Elizabeth had drawn away from\r\nArchdale, and they had joined the others who had revived a little in the\r\nnew hope. All were breathless with suspense, for the next few moments\r\nwere more full of instant peril than those that had gone before. At any\r\nmoment they might strike, and then—half a mile or more of foaming water\r\nbetween them and the shore, while the two frail boats that they had to\r\nmake the passage in would not hold them all.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe storm on shore was remembered for years as something nearer a\r\ntropical hurricane than had been known ever to have visited New England.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe boat swept on. Once there came a sound that made the listeners\r\nshiver, but the keel grated and passed over, the point was rounded, and\r\nthey entered calmer water, wild enough, however, and found the wind\r\nstill falling and the place more sheltered.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut it was not for some time, and not without great danger in the\r\npassage, that all the party stepped again upon land.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey were miles away from their homes, and must find present shelter,\r\nand such conveyance as they could.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOn the way to a farm-house that had opened its doors to them, Archdale,\r\nwho had been helping in getting the company on shore, joined Elizabeth.\r\nHe took the shawl that she was carrying and threw it over his arm,\r\nmaking use of the opportunity to say a few words to her in an undertone.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHe never forgot the expression with which she looked up at him.\r\nEmbarrassment and amusement threw a veil over her gratitude\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 267]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e for their\r\nsafety, and over that new force in her that danger had revealed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"You would not have had everything all your own way so readily,\" she\r\nsaid, \"if—if—I mean, I—I should not have\"—She stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA terrible fear seized upon Archdale.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"You regret what you said? You did not mean it, Elizabeth?\" His lips\r\nwere dry. He spoke with difficulty. It had seemed to him too wonderful\r\nfor belief.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eShe gave him one swift glance that set his heart aglow. She slipped her\r\nhand into his proffered arm, and went on demurely in the drenched\r\nprocession.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eEND.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eFOOTNOTES:\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_E_5\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[E]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Copyright, 1884, by Frances C. Sparhawk.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eTHE ORIOLE.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY CLINTON SCOLLARD.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eOriole, sitting asway\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eHigh on an emerald spray,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eWhy that melodious zest,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eBird of the beautiful breast,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eBright as the dawn of the day?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eWhat are the words that you say?—\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\"Sing and be merry with May,\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eSince to be merry is best,\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eOriole?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003eWinter has wasted away;\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eGone are the skies that were gray:\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eHear the glad bird near its nest!\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eCome let us join in its jest,—\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eJoin in the joy of the gay\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\u003cspan\u003eOriole!\u003cbr\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 268]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eA TRIP AROUND CAPE ANN.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eBY ELIZABETH PORTER GOULD.\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. and Mrs. Gordon allowed no summer to pass without going with their\r\nfamily to some place noted for its beautiful or historical attractions.\r\nTheir ten days\u0027 stay in Nantucket, in July, 1883, as well as their\r\nintelligent sojourn in Concord the following summer, had been to them a\r\nfruitful source of many an hour\u0027s conversation and pleasure.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd now the summer of 1885 was approaching, and where should they go? To\r\nbe sure they could not have the delightful company of Miss Ray, the\r\nyoung lady who had been with them for several seasons, for she had\r\nmarried, and gone to reside in Colorado. But their daughter Bessie was\r\nstill with them, and also their son Tom. He was now a student in the\r\nInstitute of Technology. This constituted the Gordon family.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter a little discussion, it was decided to yield to Mrs. Gordon\u0027s\r\ndesire to visit the home of her childhood, Manchester, Mass., and take\r\nwhat she had not taken for twenty years, a ride round the Cape. Bessie\r\nand Tom had never taken this trip, and Manchester was a good place to\r\nstart from. These were two important considerations which finally\r\ndecided the matter.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs they finished talking, Mrs. Gordon, in her zeal for historical truth,\r\nbegged that whenever they thought of or wrote the name of the Cape, they\r\nwould spell it with an \u003ci\u003ee\u003c/i\u003e. She could not imagine Queen Anne spelling\r\nher name Ann.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Indeed,\" she added, \"your Uncle Tenney in his \u0027Coronation\u0027 spells it\r\nwith an \u003ci\u003ee\u003c/i\u003e, and so does Smith\u0027s \u0027Narrative,\u0027 the first document which\r\ntells of it. That should be authority, surely.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the middle of July came, the Gordons started, as they had planned\r\nto do, to go to the home of Mrs. Gordon\u0027s mother in Manchester (now so\r\nwell known as Manchester-by-the-Sea), on old High Street. The town had\r\nchanged the name of this street to Washington, but the old lady could\r\nnot be tempted to call it so, for she had always lived on High Street,\r\nindeed was born there, and she didn\u0027t see \"why it wasn\u0027t the same street\r\nthat it always was.\" The good-sized brick house in which she lived was\r\nparticularly\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 269]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e dear to Mrs. Gordon, since in it she first saw the light\r\nof this world, and in it some of her pleasantest child-days had been\r\nspent. So when upon their arrival she saw Tom boyishly stop to swing on\r\nthe linked iron chains which marked the front entrance to the house, she\r\nherself was swinging on them, as in the olden days.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eUpon entering the house, she found herself spontaneously going, just as\r\nshe used to do, through the hall to the piazza on the back of the house,\r\nto catch a glimpse of the fresh green garden, with its summer\r\nhouses—one of which enclosed the well—which to her youthful eye had\r\nbeen so grand. How prettily the nasturtiums, growing over the wall,\r\nadorned the time-honored lane by the house! No wonder that they had\r\ncaught the artistic eye of Enneking. For these nasturtiums, with the\r\ndear old lane which had known her childish feet, the large elm tree, and\r\neven a portion of the house itself, as caught by his genius, had greeted\r\nher eye when a short time before she had been in New York city. Then the\r\nhouse had another and peculiar interest, since it had been dedicated,\r\nlike a church. A relative of hers, a well-to-do sea-captain, had built\r\nit some fifty years ago, and although he was no professor of religion,\r\nyet he conceived this idea concerning it. Perhaps the size of the house\r\nhad suggested this to him, since it was a large one for those days.\r\nEverybody thought it was so strange to have the minister come and hold a\r\nregular dedication service. The house was full of people to witness it.\r\nBut when, many years afterward, the first services of a church which was\r\nformed from the old one were held in the parlors of this very house,\r\nmany thought Captain Allen\u0027s act prophetic.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe morning after the arrival of the Gordon family at this interesting\r\nbrick house, familiar to all old frequenters of Manchester, Mr. Gordon\r\nmade arrangements for a ride around the town. Every year, he said, had\r\nsomething new to show. They went first in the direction of Gale\u0027s Point.\r\nThe sight of the comfortable Smith farm, where Mrs. Gordon used to visit\r\nwhen a girl, brought to her mind the fact that the whole of this Gale\u0027s\r\nPoint, where now there were no less than sixteen fine houses was then a\r\npart of this farm known as Major\u0027s Smith\u0027s pasture land. It could have\r\nbeen bought for a mere song. But now some of the land had brought over\r\nsix thousand dollars an acre. How she did wish that her father had been\r\nfar-seeing enough to have bought up all this shore when he could have\r\ndone so for a mere pittance!\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 270]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey stopped every little while to enjoy the fine ocean-views which the\r\nPoint afforded. Mr. Gordon\u0027s business eye was noticing every\r\nimprovement.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"They\u0027ll miss it,\" he said, as they passed in sight of the observatory\r\non Doctor Bartol\u0027s place across the stream, \"if they do not build a\r\nbridge over to Tuck\u0027s Landing. People then could drive directly there\r\nfrom Point Rocks here, instead of going way round through the town. It\r\nmust come in time. It will come.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHe seemed thus to have settled the matter, as far as himself was\r\nconcerned; and then wondered why that little wooden building was being\r\nerected on the landing owned by the town. He found out its use, however,\r\nwhen, a few weeks later, he was an invited guest to one of the annual\r\npicnics held by the \"Elder Brethren.\" These gatherings, he learned, had\r\nbecome quite an institution for the mingling of fish chowders and bright\r\nspeeches.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eContinuing their drive, they soon paused in front of the Howe place, for\r\nits fine sea-view, and, later on, by the Black residence, for the added\r\ninland view. The sight of Lobster Cove brought to mind the many good\r\npicnics once enjoyed there. Soon Gale\u0027s Point was behind them, and they\r\nwere driving past the Masconomo, the hotel which gives such a pretty\r\nbackground of human interest to Old Neck beach. This Indian name\r\nsuggested Indian history to Mrs. Gordon. She was so surprised that her\r\nchildren were ignorant of Masconomo, the sagamore of Agawam.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Why, this town ought to have been named Masconomo,\" she added, after\r\nhaving told them of his kind treatment of Governor Endicott\u0027s men, when\r\nin 1630 they landed on these, his shores. \"I am glad that Mr. Booth\r\nremembered him when he built this hotel. I thanked him once for it.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs she finished speaking, she called attention to the quaint,\r\nsloping-roof house perched upon a large, high rock, which they were then\r\npassing. This was the one which Mr. James T. Fields had built and\r\noccupied a number of summers before his death. The sight of it brought\r\nto mind some pleasant little experiences of her friendship with him,\r\nwhich she related as they continued their drive down the Old Neck road.\r\nOn this they passed the house, perhaps a hundred years old, now owned\r\nand occupied by John Gilbert, the actor. A little further on they came\r\nto the Towne place, which, through the courtesy of its owner, gave them\r\na good look at Eagle Head and the pretty houses which dot the\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 271]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\nsurrounding shore. Returning, they drove for a while on the singing\r\nsands of Old Neck beach, before going back through the town towards West\r\nManchester to Doctor Bartol\u0027s observatory. On reaching that, through the\r\nkindness of the venerable doctor, they were privileged to view from the\r\ntop its fine outlook.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"What a short distance to Gale\u0027s Point,\" exclaimed Tom pointing in that\r\ndirection, \"but what a long ride round!\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That\u0027s what I said,\" responded his father. \"The bridge must come.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter driving through one or two of the neighboring places, and also\r\nthrough the Higginson woods, where as yet there was but one house, they\r\ndrove back to the centre of the town. Before returning home they spent\r\nsome little time in Allen\u0027s favorite corner-store, where they indulged\r\nwith its genial owner—who was an old friend of Mrs. Gordon\u0027s—in\r\npleasant reminiscences. He told them much of the present condition of\r\nthe town, and of its projected changes. He said that the taxes, which\r\nhad been as high as thirteen or fourteen dollars a thousand, and as low\r\nas four dollars and eighty cents, were just now six dollars and ten\r\ncents a thousand. He greatly interested Bessie and Tom by telling\r\namusing and even thrilling anecdotes of some old ancestors of theirs who\r\nhad been prominent in town affairs. He told of one in particular, an old\r\nsea-captain, who was captured by the British in the revolutionary war\r\nfor being an American; how he suffered everything while incarcerated in\r\nDartmoor prison, rather than deny his birthright. The originality of\r\nthis old \"grandsir,\" as he was called, also interested them. He always\r\ncalled the gentry, or the \"upper ten,\" the \"Qual.\" This was his name for\r\nthe quality, as others called them. Tom was specially pleased to hear\r\nthat the farm which he owned and lived on was still owned and occupied\r\nby his descendants, having been in the same family name since 1640. What\r\nis called \"Leach Mountain\" belongs to the estate.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs the Gordons were leaving the friend who had so entertained them, he\r\ninvited them to go in the afternoon to the Essex woods to see the\r\nAgassiz rock, and the immense boulder near it. This invitation they were\r\nhappy to accept. Bessie was the only one of the party who had visited\r\nthe place. She had taken a trip there the summer before with a party of\r\nscientific people, and had not wearied in speaking of its peculiar\r\ncharacteristics. No wonder that Agassiz himself had come to see it, and\r\nexpressed his admiration\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 272]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e for it. Then such an immense boulder resting\r\nupon another boulder and bearing upon its summit a thrifty pine tree,\r\nwas certainly a wonder. And they all thought so too, when in the\r\nafternoon they were climbing the rough ladder (manufactured by two\r\nManchester gentlemen for the purpose) to obtain the views over all the\r\ntrees of the town, and islands, with the ocean winding in and out. They\r\nfound it hard to believe that such boulders found in thick woods could\r\nhave been borne hither in ages gone by, by the force of the waters of\r\nthe sea. But Tom declared, with a student\u0027s air which did not escape his\r\nfather\u0027s attention, that since they all showed the marks of glacial\r\naction, it must have been so. After visiting this novel freak of nature,\r\nthey drove up through the Essex woods. These woods of nearly four miles\r\nin length were especially dear to Mrs. Gordon, since they were so\r\nassociated with good times of her youth. She silently thanked the\r\nfar-seeing people who, to preserve them from the hand of the wood-cutter\r\nhad secured a portion on each side of the road.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese drives around Manchester led her to reflect how the town was\r\nimproving under the influence of its summer residents. New roads had\r\nbeen made, and one long since closed had been reopened. Bessie had told\r\nof this the summer before, when she had driven over its several miles of\r\nwoods to the Chebacco lakes. The streets were now lighted and watered,\r\nand even some of the fences had been removed. This she considered a\r\ngreat improvement. Indeed, since her visit to Williamstown, and other\r\ntowns in the Berkshire hills, she could not be wholly satisfied with any\r\nplace seeking beauty as long as the houses were shut in by fences. She\r\nlooked upon these as relics of barbarism, necessary only to primitive or\r\ndisorderly regions. To be sure she did not see but four or five of the\r\neleven or twelve cabinet manufactories which she used to see, but she\r\nsaw a public library well patronized by the nearly two thousand\r\ninhabitants.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe large cobble-stones in front of some of the houses so attracted\r\nTom\u0027s attention that they all decided to go the next day to Cobble-stone\r\nBeach to see these \"hard-boiled eggs of the sea\" which the ocean for\r\nages had been rounding into perfect shape. This they did before they\r\nwent to Norman\u0027s Woe to enjoy, with a party of friends, an old-fashioned\r\npicnic. While sitting on the rocks at Norman\u0027s Woe, Tom, at Bessie\u0027s\r\nrequest, recited The Wreck of the Hesperus. She could never think of the\r\none without the other, the poet had so immortalized it.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 273]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey had several yacht sails, one day going as far as Marblehead Neck,\r\nwhere they landed, and enjoyed the hospitality of the Club House. Their\r\nswift return to Manchester in less than an hour\u0027s time was a great\r\npleasure. But the days were going, and they were yet to go round the\r\nCape. The day that was finally set for this purpose proved to be one of\r\nthe loveliest of the season. By nine o\u0027clock they were driving through\r\nthe Manchester woods, where every now and then the sweet wild roses\r\ngreeted them by the roadside. As Mrs. Gordon looked in among the stately\r\npines she felt as never before the steady friendship of nature. The\r\nthought rested her. These old trees were as true to her to-day as they\r\nwere years ago. She soon saw in the distance on Graves\u0027 Beach the house\r\nwhich the poet Dana, as one of the first summer residents, had built\r\nsome forty years ago. This was still in the Dana name, and the one near\r\nit was the summer-house of the poet\u0027s grandson and his wife, the\r\ndaughter of Longfellow.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLater they passed the Manchester poorhouse, with its good ocean-view,\r\nand caught a glimpse of Baker\u0027s island. When they came to a small pond\r\nby the roadside, separated from the salt water by only a narrow strip of\r\nland, Mrs. Gordon recalled how, when it was owned by the town (it now\r\nbelonged to the Jefferson Coolidge estate), she and her brother used to\r\ngather its pond-lilies with the pink-tinted leaves. They were thought to\r\nbe extra fine. Just before they reached the Crescent beach in Magnolia,\r\nthey saw among the trees on the right the summer home of James Freeman\r\nClarke. After pausing for a good look at Magnolia with its Hesperus, its\r\nSea-View hotels, and its pretty cottages in the distance, and passing\r\nthe boundary stone between Manchester and Gloucester, they found\r\nthemselves in the Gloucester woods. They drove leisurely along to enjoy\r\ntheir fragrance. They passed the swamp where the magnolia plant grows,\r\naway from its Virginia home. Bessie, the day before, had seen for the\r\nfirst time in her life, in a garden in the village, its white fragrant\r\nblossoms on a plant which had successfully thrived, after having been\r\ntransplanted from this swamp. Others had thrived as well, much to the\r\ndelight of their owners.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eUpon nearing Gloucester, the rocks became more apparent. The beautiful\r\nHovey place on the right gave particular satisfaction to Mr. Gordon for\r\nits combination of woods, ocean-view, and look of solid comfort.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 274]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSoon Gloucester harbor, with Eastern Point lighthouse in the distance,\r\ncame before them. Then they crossed the little narrow bridge under which\r\nthe Massachusetts and Ipswich Bays meet. Tom had curiosity enough to\r\nnotice that the Ipswich was then running into the Massachusetts.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter passing the Pavilion Hotel, and driving through Gloucester\u0027s main\r\nstreet with its busy outlook, they came to the Rockport road, with its\r\nquaint houses, resembling those of Marblehead. While on this road they\r\nsaw, off on the right, Bass Rock, where was the summer home of Elizabeth\r\nStuart Phelps.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJust before entering Rockport the rocks were so many and connected that,\r\nif they had chosen, they could have walked to the highway on Ipswich Bay\r\non them alone. No wonder that such a place was called Rockport.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhile in the town they went to the Cove to see something of the\r\nextensive fish business carried on there. They walked on to the Point,\r\nto see the old fort which, in the time of the revolutionary war,\r\ncontained enough plucky men to seize a barge with men and a cannon,\r\nwhich a passing British man of War sent to besiege them. The men were\r\ntaken to Gloucester, but the cannon was left there where it remained\r\nuntil it found a better place in the town-hall yard. There, all\r\nrenovated, it now stands as a precious relic of American pluck.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Gordon was interested to see where the breakwater was to be, for\r\nwhich government had been petitioned. This he considered a necessity\r\nsure to come.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom Rockport they went on to Pigeon Cove, passing on the way\r\nthrifty-looking houses, the Rockport Granite Company quarries, and also\r\nthose of the Pigeon Cove Company.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter having done justice to the good dinner which the Pigeon Cove House\r\nafforded, they continued their ride around the Cape. Driving on to\r\nPhillips Avenue, they passed the Ocean View House, and later the summer\r\nhome of Sara Jewett, the actress. Next to this was the house of the late\r\nDoctor Chapin, who was a pioneer in Pigeon Cove as a summer resident.\r\nAfter passing other cottages, and some boarding-houses, they came to\r\nHalibut Point, the extreme point of Cape Ann. Here they alighted, and\r\nwent down on the rocks, and spent some time, on this perfect summer day,\r\nin enjoying the grand old ocean. They then retraced their steps, and\r\nwere soon driving past more pretty cottages nestling\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 275]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e among the pine\r\ntrees, surrounded by wild roses and well-directed care, until they come\r\nout to the main road again. They then drove through Folly Cove, a\r\nfishing-place facing Ipswich Bay, and also Lanesville, where they saw\r\nwork going on in the Lanesville Granite Company quarries. At Bay View\r\nthey visited the Cape Ann quarries. Here they saw the model of the\r\nFlying Mercury, which, cut in granite, had just been sent on to the new\r\npost-office in Baltimore. They also saw some granite balusters being\r\nmade for the same place. All this reminded Mrs. Gordon of her visit here\r\nsome fourteen years before, when she had seen the workmen cutting the\r\neagle for the Boston post-office. The polishing of the granite attracted\r\ntheir attention. They learned that it took three days of constant\r\nrubbing of sand and water over the granite by machine to obtain the\r\npolish required. They next visited the place of General B. F. Butler,\r\nnear there, and also the one adjoining it of Colonel Jonas French.\r\nThence they returned to Gloucester, through the pretty winding road by\r\nthe Squam river, leaving the village of Annisquam, connected by a\r\nbridge, at the right. They arrived in Manchester in the early evening,\r\ndelighted with their all-day trip. Mrs. Gordon had enjoyed the striking\r\nand many changes which the twenty years had brought; while Mr. Gordon\r\nwas more than ever convinced of the value of this shore to those seeking\r\nthe beauty and healing strength of woods. They lingered a day or two\r\nlonger in Manchester, in which they enjoyed a moonlight stroll on the\r\nbeach, as well as a long, interesting drive all over Beverly Farms.\r\nWhile driving through Franklin Haven\u0027s beautiful grounds, which he so\r\ngenerously opens to the public, they, with others who had gone before\r\nthem, gratefully appreciated this privilege of seeing such beauty away\r\nfrom the public thoroughfare. \"In a peculiar sense,\" mused Mrs. Gordon,\r\n\"such men are benefactors. They rest the tired eye, and calm the\r\ntroubled nature.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Gordons returned to their suburban Boston home wiser than they left\r\nit. And they are fully determined to take another trip next summer. (If\r\nthey do, the readers of the \u003ci\u003eNew England Magazine\u003c/i\u003e shall hear of it.)\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 276]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eEDITOR\u0027S TABLE.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eSocialism in America and Europe.\u003c/i\u003e It is a spectacle quite too sad for\r\nlaughter, and yet too comical for tears, which was offered a few weeks\r\nago by the unemployed and hungry thousands who disturbed the quiet and\r\nalarmed the fears of the people of London. That strange and unlooked-for\r\noutbreak was probably only the first act in a drama the end of which we\r\nhave not yet seen. If \"coming events cast their shadows before,\" what\r\nhas happened in England, and is constantly happening in other European\r\ncountries and in America, bodes ill for the stability of governments and\r\nthe peace of the world. Socialistic theories fill the air, disturb the\r\nminds, and inflame the passions of men. Socialism, in one or other of\r\nits forms, counts its disciples by tens of thousands on both sides of\r\nthe Atlantic. With the majority it is a dim and indistinct craving after\r\nan ideal condition of society, without any intelligent conception as to\r\nhow it is to be reached and realized. The acknowledged lights and\r\nleaders of the movement, however, teach it as a philosophy, preach it as\r\na gospel, advocate and practise it as a new style of social refinement,\r\nor labor for its adoption and establishment as a desirable scheme of\r\nsocial reform. There are philosophical socialists, and Christian\r\nsocialists, and æsthetic socialists, and socialists whose dream can only\r\nbe fulfilled by a general overturning of the existing order of things\r\nwith a view to a more just and equitable distribution of wealth, labor,\r\nliberty, and happiness. They disagree in many things very radically, but\r\nthey are all captured by one ideal and animated by one ambition, and it\r\nis a sublime and beautiful conception too, being nothing less than the\r\nconsummation of human happiness—so far as such a thing is possible—and\r\nthe creation of a heaven upon earth. Socialism contemplates a condition\r\nof society in which not only all shall share equally in work, profit,\r\nproperty, and enjoyment, but in which there will be no \"capitalists, no\r\nmiddle-men, no rent-taking, and no interest-drawing, and if there is any\r\nwage-paying, only such wage as is a due and full equivalent for the\r\nportion of work done, which shall be measured by the exigencies of the\r\ncommunity, and shall be so assessed and paid for as to leave no margin\r\nof profit to any but \u003ci\u003eactual\u003c/i\u003e workers;\" a state of society, in a word,\r\non which all kinds of toil, the lowest as well as the highest, will be\r\nso pleasant and agreeable as to be no toil at all. With so high and\r\nadmirable an aim, it seems a pity that socialism can find no better way\r\nto fulfil itself than by a resort to lawlessness and violence.\r\nNotwithstanding all that has been said, sung, and written in its favor,\r\nespecially\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 277]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e in the two great English-speaking countries, it may still be\r\ndescribed as \"a thing with its head in the clouds and its feet in the\r\nintolerable mud.\" However, our business with our fellow-beings, as\r\nSpinoza said, is not to censure them, nor to deplore them, but simply to\r\nunderstand them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Chinese Problem\u003c/i\u003e is one which is beset with so many\r\ndifficulties—moral, social, religious, industrial, economic,\r\ninternational—that most thoughtful persons, probably, would prefer to\r\nleave it alone if the indulgence of private feeling in the matter could\r\nbe made consistent with an adequate sense of public duty. As things have\r\nbeen, and still continue to be, however, silence is impossible. The\r\nquestion presses for solution, from many sides, with a painful\r\npersistency, and the further shelving of it would scarcely be good\r\npolicy. Here in New England the problem may not confront us in that\r\nsternly practical aspect which it every day wears to the citizens of the\r\nPacific Coast, and in other parts of the country, where considerable\r\nChinese populations affect the industrial interests of the local\r\ncommunities. Nevertheless, its stable and satisfactory settlement is\r\nquite as much our concern as theirs. Indeed, recent incidents in and\r\nnear Boston have made this perfectly plain. It is very true that the\r\nperpetration of outrage and violence on harmless and unoffending\r\nforeigners would not be tolerated for a moment by the public sentiment\r\nand lawful authorities of the New England and other Eastern States; but,\r\nin the judgment of other nations, not a section of the American people,\r\nbut the whole nation, however unjustly, will be made to bear the\r\nresponsibility of such lawless demonstrations of feeling as have\r\nrecently taken place in the West, and endure the discredit and reproach\r\nof them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAside, therefore, altogether from the purely domestic bearing of this\r\npainful subject, there are strong and sufficient reasons why some\r\nimmediate measures should be taken for the mitigation or removal of this\r\ngrave national trouble. It is certainly not easy to say what is best to\r\nbe done. Pride and prejudice of race is one of the most deep-seated and\r\nineradicable of human infirmities, and one of the most difficult to deal\r\nwith, especially when conjoined and complicated with other motives and\r\npassions equally, if not more, powerful. But, while the recent message\r\nof President Cleveland to Congress shows significantly enough how\r\ndifficult the problem appears to a high-souled, benevolent minded, and\r\npractical statesman, it also contributes some valuable suggestions\r\ntowards its solution, in the carrying out of which it is to be earnestly\r\nhoped he will be vigorously supported and assisted by congressional\r\naction.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 278]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA Short History of Napoleon the First.\u003c/i\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_F_6\"\u003e[F]\u003c/a\u003e Naturally gifted with a fine\r\nfaculty for historical criticism, and possessing an uncommon breadth and\r\ncompleteness of information in that department of historical research\r\nwhich his professional duties have called him specially to cultivate,\r\nProfessor Seeley\u0027s historical judgments have acquired a weight and\r\nauthority quite their own. We were, therefore, prepared, before opening\r\nthis book, to find in its pages a careful and discriminating estimate of\r\nthe military career and character of the Child of the Revolution,—and\r\nwe have not been disappointed. The task Professor Seeley set himself was\r\none requiring as much courage as intelligence and critical skill; and he\r\nhas displayed all these qualities in a most admirable manner, with the\r\nresult that a great historical problem has been appreciably advanced\r\ntowards its true solution. Mr. Seeley is quite aware of the difficult\r\nand delicate nature of his undertaking. This feeling betrays itself\r\nconstantly. \"He lends himself readily to unmeasured panegyric or\r\ninvective,\" says the Professor, \"but scarcely any historical person is\r\nso difficult to measure.\" Again: \"No one can question that he leaves far\r\nbehind him the Turennes, Marlboroughs, and Fredericks, but when we bring\r\nup for comparison an Alexander, a Hannibal, a Cæsar, a Charles, we find\r\nin the single point of marvellousness Napoleon surpassing them all.\r\nEvery one of those heroes was born to a position of exceptional\r\nadvantage. Two of them inherited thrones; Hannibal inherited a position\r\nroyal in all but the name; Cæsar inherited an eminent position in a\r\ngreat empire. But Napoleon, who rose as high as any of them, began life\r\nas an obscure provincial, almost as a man without a country. It is the\r\nmarvellousness which paralyzes our judgment. We seem to see at once a\r\ngenius beyond all estimate, a unique character and a fortune utterly\r\nunaccountable.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, while admitting that the personality and the fortune of Napoleon\r\nwere both alike surprising, Mr. Seeley contends that it is only the\r\naccidental combination of both which has impressed and captivated the\r\nimagination of mankind; and he believes that the separation of these\r\nfactors by a calm exercise of the judgment will greatly simplify the\r\nproblem and reduce the marvel of the great soldier\u0027s achievements. There\r\nwill, of course, be some divergence of opinion as to this, but it seems\r\nto us that, on the whole, it is a judgment which subsequent historians\r\nwill be likely to accept without serious modifications. It can hardly be\r\ncalled an absolutely impartial judgment. At no more than a distance of\r\nseventy years from Waterloo, that was not in the nature of things\r\npossible, if indeed it will ever be. The historian that would tell the\r\nstory of the French Revolution, and estimate the character and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 279]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e result\r\nof Napoleon\u0027s military and political action, without bias or betrayal of\r\npersonal sympathy or antipathy, would be a most extraordinary person; he\r\ncould not be an Englishman; he could not be a Frenchman; he could not be\r\na German; he could scarcely be an American, for obvious reasons. Bearing\r\nthis in mind we cannot but think that Mr. Seeley has achieved\r\nconsiderable success in the difficult task he has undertaken in the\r\nlater and more valuable portion of his book. Fully admitting, as he\r\ndoes, Napoleon\u0027s extraordinary military talents, his astonishing\r\nversatility and fruitfulness of resource, the promptitude, rapidity, and\r\nunerring precision of his movements, Mr. Seeley maintains that what is\r\nreally marvellous is the remarkable combination of favorable\r\ncircumstances which at the outset furnished his field, and the equally\r\nremarkable flow of good fortune which made him so successful in it.\r\nCommenting on the brilliant victory of Marengo, which the professor\r\ndesignates \"his crowning victory,\" he says, \"Genius is prodigally\r\ndisplayed, and yet an immense margin is left for fortune.\" He points out\r\nNapoleon\u0027s superstitious belief in his own unfailing good luck, and\r\nshows how, by expecting results entirely unwarranted by the\r\nprobabilities, as at Leipsic, for instance, his strange hallucination\r\nfinally proved ruinous to himself and to France.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe thanks of all lovers of literature are due to our enterprising\r\ncontemporary, the \u003ci\u003eCentury\u003c/i\u003e, for securing and presenting to the public\r\nthe opinions of leading American journalists, authors, and scholars on\r\nthe subject of international copyright. The truly laudable endeavor of\r\nthe \u003ci\u003eCentury\u003c/i\u003e Company to obtain for the noble army of thinkers and\r\nwriters on both sides the Atlantic the protection they desire and\r\ndeserve will, it is hoped, not prove vain and futile. That any immediate\r\nand satisfactory step will be taken in this direction is scarcely to be\r\nexpected. But the discussion of the question, in the form presented by\r\nthe \u003ci\u003eCentury\u003c/i\u003e, will, at least, do something to break up the supineness\r\nand indifference of the reading public. That once done, some substantial\r\nredress of an old-standing grievance will not be much longer delayed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eFOOTNOTES:\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_F_6\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[F]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Boston: Roberts Brothers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 280]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eEDUCATION.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn determining a nation\u0027s place and power in the great work of modern\r\ncivilization, it is not necessary to take into consideration the extent\r\nof its territory, the number of its population, the richness of its\r\nresources, the extent and prosperity of its commerce, the wealth of its\r\npeople, the sufficiency of its naval and military defences, or even the\r\nform of its government and the character of its political institutions;\r\nthe decision must mainly turn on the thoroughness, completeness, and\r\ncomprehensiveness of its educational machinery and work. Judged by this\r\nstandard the United States may fairly claim to be assigned a foremost\r\nplace in the great community of enlightened and progressive modern\r\npeoples. It is very true that the high schools, colleges, and\r\nuniversities of the country cannot boast a great historic past; that\r\nthey can scarcely be said to be so completely equipped and munificently\r\nendowed as many of the English and German seats of learning; but these\r\ndisadvantages of a young and growing nation will, in course of time,\r\ndiminish and disappear, while newer and happier educational methods,\r\nemployed in a freer and more favorable field, will be sure to produce\r\nresults not hitherto achieved in this most important department of human\r\nenterprise and activity.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe attention of the American nation is being turned, as never before,\r\nto the question of education; the wealth of the nation is being\r\nliterally poured forth upon a scale and with a munificence unprecedented\r\nperhaps in the history of the world. \"In the single decade, from 1870 to\r\n1880,\" says Dr. Warren, President of the Boston University, in his\r\nreport for the year 1884-85, \"private individuals in the United States\r\nconsecrated to educational purposes, by free gift and devise, more than\r\nthirty millions of dollars.\" This fact, taken in conjunction with the\r\ntruly noble deed of \"the Hon. Leland Stanford, who by one act set apart\r\nfor the founding and equipping of a new University in California the\r\nmagnificent endowment of twenty millions of dollars,\" speaks volumes.\r\nThe educational future of America was never so full of promise as\r\nto-day.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 281]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eHISTORICAL RECORD.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 15.—Annual meeting of the American Statistical Society, at\r\nBoston. Officers were elected as follows: President, Francis A. Walker;\r\nvice-presidents, George C. Shattuck and Hamilton A. Hill; corresponding\r\nsecretary, Edward Atkinson; recording secretary, Carroll D. Wright;\r\ntreasurer, Lyman Mason; librarian, Julius L. Clarke; counsellors, J. R.\r\nChadwick, Benjamin F. Nourse, John Ward Dean; committee on publication,\r\nR. W. Ward, Walter C. Wright, C. D. Bradlee; finance committee, Lyman\r\nMason, D. A. Gleason, Otis Clapp. Edward Atkinson read a paper in which\r\nhe discussed the question of the cost of living, and showed that the\r\ntendency, recent and present, has been, and is, an ameliorating one.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 16.—The Salem Athenæum proprietors held a meeting to take\r\naction on the proposed consolidation of its library with the several\r\nother private collections, for the nucleus of a public library. The\r\nproposition had already been accepted by the Essex Institute, and a\r\ncommittee appointed to confer with other societies. There was some\r\ndiscussion, and a committee, consisting of William Mack, the Rev. E. B.\r\nWillson, John Robinson, T. Frank Hunt, and Charles Osgood, was chosen by\r\na vote of 41 to 10 to carry out the project of consolidation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 18.—Annual meeting of the Webster Historical Society, at the\r\nOld South Meeting-house, in Boston. Officers were elected as follows:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ePresident, the Hon. Joshua L. Chamberlain, of Maine.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eVice-Presidents.—The Hon. Alexander H. Rice, Massachusetts; the Hon.\r\nGeorge F. Edmunds, Vermont; the Rev. Noah Porter, Connecticut; the Hon.\r\nHenry Howard, Rhode Island; the Hon. Austin F. Pike, New Hampshire; the\r\nHon. James G. Blaine, Maine; the Hon. Thomas F. Bayard, Delaware; the\r\nHon. William M. Evarts, New York; the Hon. J. Henry Stickney, Maryland;\r\nthe Hon. D. W. Manchester, Ohio; the Hon. John Wentworth, Illinois; the\r\nHon. Lucius F. Hubbard, Minnesota; the Hon. J. C. Welling, District of\r\nColumbia; the Hon. George C. Ludlow, New Jersey; General William T.\r\nSherman, Missouri; Dr. Edward W. Jenks, Michigan; Capt. Clinton B.\r\nSears, Tennessee; the Hon. Joseph B. Young, Iowa; the Hon. Horace Noyes,\r\nWest Virginia; the Hon. James H. Campbell,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 282]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e Pennsylvania; the Hon.\r\nWilliam H. Baker, New Mexico, and the Rev. Charles M. Blake, California.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eExecutive Committee.—The Hon. Stephen M. Allen, Edward F. Thayer,\r\nNathaniel W. Ladd, the Hon. Edmund H. Bennett, and the Hon. Albert\r\nPalmer.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFinance Committee.—The Hon. Nathaniel F. Safford, William B. Wood,\r\nHenry P. Kidder, Edward F. Thayer, and the Hon. Alexander H. Rice.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHistoriographers.—The Rev. William C. Winslow, the Rev. Edward J.\r\nYoung, and the Rev. Thomas A. Hyde.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCommittee on Future Work.—The Hon. Nathaniel F. Safford, the Hon. E. S.\r\nTobey, Stillman B. Allen, the Hon. Mellen Chamberlain, and Thomas H.\r\nCummings, Esq.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTreasurer.—Francis M. Boutwell.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eRecording Clerk.—Nathaniel W. Ladd.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCorresponding Secretary.—Thomas H. Cummings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eActuary.—William H. Colcord.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe annual address, entitled \"Daniel Webster as an Orator,\" was then\r\ndelivered by the Rev. Thomas Alexander Hyde.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 18.—At Lowell, Mass., the Joint Special Committee of the City\r\nCouncil, appointed to consider the expediency of observing April 1, the\r\nfiftieth anniversary of the city\u0027s incorporation, by a formal\r\ncelebration, decided that it was expedient. James Russel Lowell, who is\r\na nephew of Francis Cabot Lowell, the founder of the city, will probably\r\ndeliver the oration.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 28, 29.—A serious ice-storm did great havoc among trees in many\r\nof the cities and towns of New England.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFebruary 11.—Meeting of the Mass. Historical Society, the Rev. Dr.\r\nEllis, the president, being in the chair. The death of Francis E.\r\nParker, who had been for twenty-three years a member of the society,\r\ncalled forth earnest words from those who were intimately associated\r\nwith him.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Quincy presented to the cabinet of the society a piece of\r\nShakspere\u0027s mulberry-tree, which had been cut from a block that belonged\r\nto David Garrick, and was sealed with his seal (a head of Shakspere), as\r\na witness of its authenticity. This block was presented to the\r\ndistinguished actor by the mayor, aldermen, and burgesses of Stratford,\r\nat\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 283]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e the famous jubilee of 1769. Mr. Quincy gave a short sketch of Robert\r\nBalmanno, a Shaksperian scholar and collector, who possessed the\r\noriginal block, with Garrick\u0027s seal upon it, and whose affidavit is\r\nattached to the piece given to the society. The Hon. R. C. Winthrop\r\npresented to the society a large framed photograph of Daniel Webster,\r\ntaken from an original crayon portrait which has been hanging on his own\r\nwalls for forty years. The latter was drawn by Eastman Johnson at Mr.\r\nWinthrop\u0027s request, and at the very time that Healy was taking a\r\nlikeness in oil for the royal gallery at Versailles. The sittings, which\r\nlasted about a week, were held in one of the old committee-rooms of\r\nCongress, down in the crypts of the Capitol. The crayon, when finished,\r\nelicited expressions of admiration from some of the most intimate\r\nfriends of Mr. Webster, and it was afterwards lithographed; but this\r\nphotograph is better, and is hardly less impressive than the original.\r\nThe president read a letter of sympathy prepared to be sent to Gov.\r\nHutchinson on his departure for England by some prominent citizens of\r\nMilton. An indignant protest from other citizens compelled the\r\nretraction of this letter before it was sent. These papers will appear\r\nin a history of Milton now in preparation. Mr. Deane offered a\r\nresolution from the Council that a committee be appointed to inquire\r\ninto the value and extent of the labors of Mr. B. F. Stevens in\r\npublishing from the archives of the states of Europe the diplomatic\r\ncorrespondence and other papers relating to the United States between\r\n1772 and 1784, and to report whether or not it be desirable for this\r\nsociety to take any action to encourage the work. Mr. Winsor and Dr.\r\nGreen were appointed members of this committee. Dr. Moore moved that a\r\nletter once written by a committee of this society on the centennial\r\ncelebration of the settlement of Boston, which does not appear on its\r\nrecords, be reproduced in the proceedings, since the action of this\r\nsociety was the first step which led to that interesting celebration.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFebruary 13.—Meeting of the New England Historical Genealogical\r\nSociety, President Wilder in the chair. The historiographer announced\r\nthe decease of members, of which information had been received, viz.:\r\nAshael Woodward, M.D., at Franklin, Conn., December 30, 1885; Ariel Low,\r\nat Boston, January 5, 1886; Nahum Capen, LL.D., at Dorchester, January\r\n8; Francis Walker Bacon, at Boston, January 17; Edmund Batchelder\r\nDearborn, at Boston, January 22; Henry Perkins Kidder, at New York,\r\nJanuary 28. The corresponding secretary made a statement as to some of\r\nthe more valuable gifts of books for the month, the donation of chief\r\nvalue being a full set of Force\u0027s \"American Archives,\" from the Hon. M.\r\nP. Wilder. The secretary, the Rev.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 284]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e Mr. Slafter, also made a statement\r\nconcerning the proposition recently made by Mr. Benjamin F. Stevens, an\r\nantiquarian of local celebrity, formerly resident in Vermont, but now in\r\nEngland. He has made a collection of titles of manuscripts relating to\r\nAmerican affairs during the period from 1772 to 1784, which manuscripts\r\nare in the government archives of England, France, Holland, and Spain,\r\nand number 80,000 or more. Many of them are of the first historical\r\nimportance, and have never been published. The proposition is that\r\nCongress shall be induced to take some measures for the printing of\r\nthese indexes and the more important of the manuscripts. The society, on\r\nMr. Slafter\u0027s motion, adopted a resolution in favor of the project, and\r\nappointed a committee to coöperate with other committees or societies in\r\nurging the matter at Washington. Mr. Slafter declined being chairman of\r\nthe committee, and it was made up as follows: Abner C. Goodell, John\r\nWard Dean, Albert H. Hoyt, Edmund F. Slafter, and Charles L. Flint. The\r\nhistorical essay of the session was read by Mr. S. Brainard Pratt, of\r\nBoston, and its subject was \"The Bible in New England.\" In referring to\r\nthe use of the Bible in the Sunday service, by reading of selections\r\ntherefrom, he said this was for a long time resisted. The first reading\r\nof the kind was in the Brattle-street Church, in Boston, in 1699, and it\r\nwas regarded as an audacious innovation, as savoring of Presbyterianism,\r\nand being but little better than Episcopalianism in disguise. The next\r\nchurch to adopt the practice was that of South Reading, in 1645, and the\r\nnext was in 1669, when the Old South Church, in Boston, took up with it.\r\nThe progress of the movement was very slow, as is indicated by these\r\nfacts, and the fact that in the South Parish Church, of Ipswich, there\r\nwas no reading of Scripture, as a part of the service, until the year\r\n1826. The essayist said there have been 326 versions, of varying\r\neditions, of the New and Old Testaments, or both, published in New\r\nEngland, namely: In Rhode Island, 1; Maine, 12; Vermont, 18; New\r\nHampshire, 25; Connecticut, 83; Massachusetts, 187. There yet remains\r\none in manuscript, of great interest, which the enterprise and wealth of\r\nBoston have never yet given to the world in type. That is the version\r\nprepared by Cotton Mather, and the manuscript of which is in the\r\npossession of the Massachusetts Historical Society.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFebruary 13-16.—Floods did great damage in Boston and other places in\r\nEastern Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 285]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eNECROLOGY.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 16.—Death of Henry W. Hudson, LL.D., at Cambridge, from\r\nexhaustion following a slight surgical operation. He was one of the most\r\nnoted Shaksperian scholars in the world. He was born in Cornwall, Vt.,\r\nJanuary 28, 1814. His early life was, like that of so many other Green\r\nMountain boys, one of poverty, struggle for a livelihood and an\r\neducation, till finally he had gained his much-coveted collegiate\r\ntraining, and began life as a teacher in the South. He became interested\r\nin Shakspere, studying the plays with only the slight aids then within\r\nhis reach. Almost immediately he fell to work upon his critical analysis\r\nof the dramatist, which he delivered in the form of lectures at\r\nHuntsville, and afterwards at Mobile and Cincinnati. In the fall of 1844\r\nhe came to Boston, and was constantly engaged in delivering his\r\nShaksperian lectures, during the following winter, in Boston and the\r\nchief neighboring cities. The succeeding year they were repeated in\r\nPhiladelphia, Baltimore, and Washington. George S. Hillard, Theodore\r\nParker, Dr. Chandler Robbins, and Mr. Emerson became deeply interested\r\nin him. His lectures were first published in 1848, and were dedicated to\r\nRichard H. Dana. Mr. Hudson was admitted to the diaconate in the\r\nEpiscopal Church by Bishop Whittingham, in Trinity Church, New York, in\r\n1849. He was still more or less engaged in literary pursuits, and in\r\n1852 became and continued for nearly three years the editor of the\r\n\u003ci\u003eChurchman\u003c/i\u003e, a weekly religious journal then published in New York.\r\nSubsequently he originated the \u003ci\u003eChurch Monthly\u003c/i\u003e, which he edited a year\r\nor two. His only parochial charge has been that of St. Michael\u0027s,\r\nLitchfield, Conn., assumed in 1858 and retained until 1860. It was in\r\n1851 that his first edition of \"Shakspere\u0027s Plays\" appeared, in eleven\r\nvolumes, after the form and style of the Chiswick edition of 1826. In\r\n1852 he married Miss Emily S. Bright, daughter of Henry Bright, of\r\nNorthampton. In 1862 he became chaplain in the New York Volunteer\r\nEngineers. From 1865 Mr. Hudson lived principally in Cambridge,\r\nfrequently officiating in parish churches on Sundays, but principally\r\ndevoting himself to the teaching of Shakspere and other English authors,\r\nin Boston and the immediate neighborhood. He was for a long time a\r\nlecturer on English literature at the Boston University. A few years ago\r\nhe received the degree of LL.D., from Middlebury College. For two years\r\nhe was the editor of the \u003ci\u003eSaturday Evening Gazette\u003c/i\u003e. In 1870 Messrs.\r\nGinn \u0026amp; Heath became his publishers, and brought out his \"School\r\nShakspere\" in three volumes, containing seven plays each. In 1872 he put\r\ninto two\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 286]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e volumes the substance of his earlier volumes on \"Shakspere\u0027s\r\nCharacters,\" revising, condensing, rewriting his earlier work, parts of\r\nwhich he had outgrown, and presenting his final opinions, under the\r\ntitle of Shakspere\u0027s \"Life, Art, and Characters,\" which he dedicated to\r\nhis friend, Mr. Joseph Burnett, of Southboro\u0027. It is but a few years\r\nsince his \"Harvard Shakspere\" was brought out.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 17.—Death of the Hon. Hosea Doton, of Woodstock, Vt., aged\r\nseventy-four. He was a man of wide reputation as a mathematician and\r\ncivil engineer, and had long been in correspondence with leading\r\nscientists in different parts of the country. His work in determining\r\naltitudes of Vermont mountains is accepted as authority. For\r\nthirty-eight years he made astronomical calculations for the \u003ci\u003eVermont\r\nRegister\u003c/i\u003e, also many years for the \u003ci\u003eNew Hampshire Register\u003c/i\u003e, and had\r\nlong kept a meteorological record for the Smithsonian Institute.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 18.—Death of the Rev. Jacob Hood, at his residence in\r\nLynnfield. He passed his ninety-fourth birthday on Christmas-day last.\r\nHe was born in Lynnfield, December 25, 1791, and moved to Salem in 1820,\r\nwhere he was master of the old East School in 1822, remaining until\r\n1835, at a salary of $600 per year. He taught an old-fashioned\r\nsinging-school in Salem from 1835 to 1850, and hundreds of his old\r\npupils in Essex county delight to speak of him as \"Master Hood.\" He\r\nreturned to Lynnfield in May, 1865, where he had quietly resided since,\r\nrespected and beloved by all around him.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSudden death, in Boston, of Francis Edward Parker. He was the only son\r\nof the Rev. Dr. Nathan Parker, minister of the Unitarian Church at\r\nPortsmouth, N.H., and was born in that city, July 23, 1821. He was\r\neducated at Phillips Exeter Academy, and from thence came to Harvard\r\nCollege, where he graduated in 1841 with the highest honors of his\r\nclass. He studied his profession in the law-school at Cambridge, and in\r\nthe office of the late Mr. Richard H. Dana, and on his admission to the\r\nbar, about 1846, he formed a professional connection with that gentleman\r\nwhich continued until Mr. Dana\u0027s appointment to the office of United\r\nStates District Attorney, in 1861. He early gained a good position as a\r\nlawyer, but his tastes led him more to chamber practice and to the\r\nmanagement of trust estates than to the conflicts of the court-room,\r\nalthough he never entirely gave up the latter. As a trust lawyer he\r\nstood in the front rank\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 287]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e of the profession, and no one was intrusted\r\nwith greater and more momentous interests, and no one\u0027s judgment was\r\nrelied on with more implicit confidence on difficult and delicate\r\nquestions. In 1865 he was a member of the State Senate. For many years\r\nhe was a member of the School Committee and an Overseer of the Poor, and\r\nrendered efficient services in those positions. He was long an active\r\nofficer of the Boston Provident Association, and at the time of his\r\ndeath had been for many years one of the most influential members of the\r\nBoard of Overseers of Harvard University.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 19.—Death, at Springfield, Mass., of Benjamin Weaver, one of\r\nthe founders of the \u003ci\u003eSpringfield Union\u003c/i\u003e. He was the most active and\r\ninfluential Democrat in that city.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 21.—The Hon. Samuel Metcalf Wheeler, a prominent citizen of\r\nDover, N.H., died after a protracted illness. He was born in Newport,\r\nN.H., May 11, 1823; educated in the seminary at Claremont, N.H., the\r\nmilitary academy at Windsor, Vt., and the Newbury Seminary; studied law;\r\nwas admitted to the bar in 1847; soon after moved to Dover, and became a\r\npartner with ex-Congressman Hall. In 1858 the partnership was dissolved.\r\nHe represented Dover in the Legislature for five years; was a member of\r\nthe Constitutional Convention, Speaker of the House; was a candidate for\r\nCongress in the Republican Convention in the First District, twice being\r\ndefeated by only one vote, and he received the honorary degree of M.A.\r\nfrom Dartmouth. He was at one time president of the Dover National Bank.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 23.—Death at Chester, Vt., of Deacon A. B. Martin, well-known\r\nand much respected through that region. He was aged sixty-three. He was\r\nformerly a member of the State Legislature, and had held a number of\r\noffices of trust.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 28.—Death in New York of Henry P. Kidder, the Boston banker. He\r\nwas born in Boston, in 1821. During his youth he received the\r\ncommon-school education of those days, displaying in his studies much of\r\nthe keen sagacity and clearness of intellect which characterized his\r\nfuture business career. Although never a college student, he was always\r\nwhat may justly be termed a well-read man, and, indeed, a learned one.\r\nAt fifteen years of age he went a mere boy into the wholesale grocery\r\nhouse of Coolidge \u0026amp; Haskell, a firm well-known\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 288]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e to many of Boston\u0027s\r\nolder residents. In his capacity as clerk he displayed a marked ability,\r\nand won for himself the commendation of his employers. In 1842 Charles\r\nHead obtained for him a position in the banking-house of John E. Thayer\r\n\u0026amp; Brother. In twelve years he became a partner, and so continued until\r\n1865, when a new firm was started, under the present name of Kidder,\r\nPeabody, \u0026amp; Co. Twenty years of unexampled prosperity have placed it in\r\nthe foremost rank of America\u0027s banking establishments.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Kidder always shrank from publicity, and led a thoroughly domestic\r\nlife. He, however, was a Republican delegate to the National Republican\r\nConvention in Chicago in 1884. He was president of the American\r\nUnitarian Association, Treasurer of the Museum of Fine Arts, State\r\nTrustee of the Massachusetts General Hospital, President of the\r\nChildren\u0027s Mission, Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Young Men\u0027s\r\nChristian Union, and was also connected with most of the charitable\r\ninstitutions and organizations of the city. He had been for many years\r\none of the leading members of the South Congregational Church, and one\r\nof its committee, taking a most active part in the work of the society.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJanuary 31.—Death, at Marblehead, of Adoniram C. Orne, a well-known and\r\nhighly respected citizen of that town, at the age of 74. He was one of\r\nthe earliest shoe-manufacturers in Marblehead, and a public-spirited\r\ncitizen, many important local improvements having been suggested and\r\ncarried into effect by his persistent efforts. He was a consistent\r\nadvocate of temperance, and was the author of several statistical\r\npamphlets on the subject, some of which are recognized as authority, and\r\nhave a wide circulation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFebruary 7.—Death, at Worcester, of Hon. Peter C. Bacon, of the law\r\nfirm of Bacon, Hopkins, \u0026amp; Bacon. He was born in Dudley, in 1804. He was\r\nthe son of Jeptha Bacon. He graduated from Brown University in 1827, and\r\nlater read law at the New Haven Law School, and in the office of Davis \u0026amp;\r\nAllen, in Worcester. He was admitted to the bar in 1830, and commenced\r\nto practise in his native place, but soon removed to Oxford, where he\r\nwent into partnership with Ira M. Barton, who subsequently became Judge\r\nBarton. In 1845 Mr. Bacon came to Worcester, and had ever since been the\r\nleading member of the bar. Since his admission to the bar, fifty-six\r\nyears ago, Mr. Bacon\u0027s office has been a training-school for the youth\r\nof the profession, and among his old students are reckoned some of the\r\nleading lawyers of the State. Nearly one-half the lawyers in Worcester\r\nwere formerly students under\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 289]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e him, and there is scarcely a State in the\r\nUnion that has not some representatives from this great law-office.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFebruary 7.—Death, in Boston, of John G. Webster. He was born at\r\nPortsmouth, N.H., on the 8th of April, 1811, and was, therefore, nearly\r\n75 years of age. He was a distant kinsman of Daniel Webster. His\r\npaternal grandmother was a kinsman of John Locke, the English\r\nphilosopher and metaphysician. His maternal ancestors, from whom he\r\nreceived his middle name,—the Gerrisbes,—emigrated from England to\r\nthis country in 1640.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Webster\u0027s early education was in the schools of Portsmouth, N.H.,\r\nand at a boarding-school of five hundred or six hundred boys, at South\r\nBerwick, Me., which he was obliged to leave at the age of fourteen to\r\nserve as clerk and book-keeper in a village store. In 1841 Mr. Webster\r\ncame to Boston and joined his brother, David Locke Webster, who had for\r\nseveral years been engaged in the leather business, and they established\r\nthe firm of Webster \u0026amp; Co., with a joint capital of $12,000; the same\r\nfirm is still in existence, one of the oldest, if not the oldest in the\r\nsame line of business in the city of Boston. In 1845 the firm built a\r\ntannery and leather manufactory in Malden, which covered about one acre\r\nof ground. The same business now occupies an area of between twelve and\r\nfifteen acres. Mr. Webster was in former years one of the most active\r\nbusiness men in this vicinity, engaged in many other enterprises outside\r\nof his regular business. He was one of the incorporators of the Malden\r\nBank; was its president for several years; was one of the incorporators\r\nof the Malden \u0026amp; Melrose Gas Company, and one of the Suffolk Horse\r\nRailroad Company, since consolidated with the Metropolitan, of which he\r\nwas a director and the treasurer for some years. He was director and\r\ntreasurer of the Boston, Revere Beach, \u0026amp; Lynn Railroad from its\r\nincorporation to the year 1880. He was a member of the City Council of\r\nBoston in 1855 and 1856. He represented his ward in the Legislature of\r\nMassachusetts in 1857, and again in 1880 and 1881.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Webster, when a young man, was in sympathy with the Whig party; but,\r\non the organization of the Free Soil party, became its earnest\r\nsupporter, and so continued until the formation of the Republican party,\r\nof which he remained an ardent advocate until the day of his death.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHis only son, Frederick G. Webster, in the year 1863, while yet a minor,\r\nwas tendered by Governor Andrew a commission as Lieutenant of the\r\nFifty-fourth Massachusetts,—Colonel Shaw\u0027s regiment,—one of the first\r\nregiments of colored troops organized in the country. He accepted\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 290]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e his\r\ncommission. Mr. Webster was too patriotic, too much devoted to the good\r\ncause, to withhold his consent that his son should enter the army, and\r\nthe young man joined his regiment at Folly Island, South Carolina. In an\r\nengagement which occurred soon after the captain of the company was\r\nkilled, and Lieutenant Webster took the place of his fallen superior,\r\nand his comrades testify that he filled it with intrepid courage and\r\nefficiency throughout the battle. Subsequently he fell sick with typhoid\r\nfever, was taken to the hospital at Beaufort, S.C., and there died,\r\nbefore his father could reach him. Mr. Webster leaves a widow and four\r\ngrown daughters, sorrow-stricken at his sudden and unexpected decease.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAny one who knew Mr. Webster in connection with charitable and\r\nphilanthropic work must testify to the gentle, loving kindness of his\r\nnature and to his ready sympathy with the sorrows and misfortunes of his\r\nfellow-creatures, and with every good work intended to ameliorate their\r\ncondition. He was one of the original members of the Citizens\u0027 Law and\r\nOrder League, was one of its first vice-presidents, and remained one of\r\nits officers to the day of his death. He was the treasurer of the\r\nNational League, and the secretary bears testimony to his unfailing\r\ninterest in the good work, to his thorough sympathy and hearty\r\ncoöperation in all efforts to mitigate the evils of intemperance. No\r\nmember of the League devoted more earnest zeal and self-sacrificing\r\nlabor to promote the reforms initiated by the League. He was a member of\r\nthe Public School Association, and a postal-card invitation to a meeting\r\nof that Association, on Saturday last, bore his name in connection with\r\nthat of the Rev. Edward Everett Hale and several other gentlemen.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOn Wednesday last Mr. Webster was out. On that evening he was feeling a\r\nlittle ill, and postponed engagements which he had made for Thursday. He\r\nsupposed his illness only temporary, and expected to be out on Friday\r\nand again on Saturday. When his family retired Saturday night they bade\r\nhim good-night, and he told them that he felt better. At three o\u0027clock\r\nin the morning they were awakened, and, hurrying to his room, found that\r\nhe apparently had difficulty about breathing, and in a few minutes he\r\npassed quietly away without speaking. Mr. Webster was a member of the\r\nNew or Swedenborgian Church, and held to that faith very strongly. He\r\nwas a believer that departed spirits still hover about their friends and\r\nassist them in the good which they are endeavoring to accomplish. If\r\nsuch be the case, many a good cause in Boston to-day is being helped by\r\nhis presence, although he is gone from us forever.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 291]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eIN OLDEN TIMES.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn Wickford, Rhode Island, is what is claimed to be the oldest Episcopal\r\nchurch in America. It was built in 1707, and was once stolen and\r\ntransported a distance of seven miles. It was originally built on what\r\nwas then called McSparren Hill, but in the course of seventy-five years\r\nthe population had changed so that most of the worshippers came from\r\nWickford, seven miles away. The proposition to remove the church was\r\nfirst made at a vestry meeting, but was so bitterly opposed by the few\r\nmembers who yet remained on McSparren Hill that the Wickford faction\r\nresolved on a \u003ci\u003ecoup d\u0027état\u003c/i\u003e. The road from where the church stood to\r\nWickford was all down hill. They mustered their forces one evening,\r\ncollected all the oxen in the vicinity, placed the house on wheels, and,\r\nwhile the opposing faction were soundly sleeping in their beds, hauled\r\nthe holy edifice to the spot where it now stands, and where it has since\r\nremained. As it was utterly impossible to move the house back up the\r\nhill again, the surprised hill residents could only vent their rage in\r\nunchurchly language. Although the old building is still standing, the\r\npresent society worship in a more modern edifice.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe house built by Elnathan Osborn, in 1696, still stands in Danbury,\r\nConnecticut. One of the Osborns was six years old when General Tryon\u0027s\r\nBritish troops visited the place. The lad came home from school to find\r\nthe house full of redcoats. They were making free with the contents of\r\nthe buttery. The boy attempted to back out, when one of the men called\r\nto him, \"Come in, lad, we won\u0027t hurt you.\" \"Is there any cider in the\r\nhouse?\" asked the soldier. The boy took out a large wooden bowl, went\r\ndown cellar, and filled it several times with apple juice for the men.\r\nWhen the British fired the village, a few hours later, there was no\r\ntorch applied to the home of Elnathan Osborn. The house still stands at\r\nthe foot of Main street. It is a low, hip-roofed house, studded with\r\nenormous beams, and lighted with tiny diamond window-panes.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe oldest building in Boston is said to be the one which stands at the\r\ncorner of Moon and Sun Court streets. It was built in 1677, and conveyed\r\nby Benjamin Rawlings to Ralph Barger, February 8, 1699, for £45, New\r\nEngland currency, as per record in Registry of Deeds, lib. 19, fol. 270.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eJohn Hollis, Braintree, who died in 1718, left, as is recorded in the\r\ninventory of his estate, \"one baptising suit.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEdwin D. Mead, of Boston, is to give a course of six lectures on \"The\r\nPilgrim Fathers,\" before the students of Bates College at Lewiston,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 292]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e Me.\r\nThe lectures will begin March 1, and will be open to the public.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe New Haven Colony Historical Society has for its officers Simeon E.\r\nBaldwin president, ex-Governor English vice president, Thomas R.\r\nTrowbridge, Jr., secretary, Robert Peck treasurer, and a board of\r\ntwenty-five directors.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA lively discussion has been started as to which is the oldest church in\r\nConnecticut. Stamford claims that its church that just celebrated its\r\ntwo hundred and fiftieth anniversary was the first organized on\r\nConnecticut soil. An old pastor of the First Church of Hartford writes\r\nto claim that that church was organized in 1633, and that the two\r\nhundred and fiftieth anniversary was celebrated in 1883. Stamford does\r\nnot deny that the Hartford Church may have been organized in 1633, but\r\nsays it was not in Connecticut at that time.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHartford, Conn., has a public library of thirty-six thousand volumes,\r\nbut it costs anybody five dollars a year to get books out of it, and\r\nthere are only six hundred people in the whole city who care to pay that\r\nprice for its privileges.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch4\u003eOLD MARRIAGE RECORDS.\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe following authentic list of marriages, by the Rev. Thomas Skinner,\r\nsecond pastor of the Congregational Church in Westchester parish, in the\r\ntown of Colchester, Conn., is furnished for use in the \u003cspan\u003eNew England\r\nMagazine\u003c/span\u003e, by Mr. Martin L. Roberts, of New Haven, Conn.:—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1755.—Sept. 1, Caleb Loomis, Jr., and Ann Strong; Ezra Bigelow and\r\nHannah Strong.—Sept. 24, John Carrier and Hannah Knowlton.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1756.—Nov. 5, Rev. Ephraim Little and Mrs. Abigail Bulkley.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1758.—Jan. 4, Policarphus Smith and Dorothy Skinner; John Mitchell and\r\nHepzibah Shepardson.—Jan. 24, Jacob Smith and Jemima Fuller.—April,\r\nJoshua Bailey and Ann Foot.—April 27, Samuel Brown of East Hampton and\r\nElizabeth Brainerd.—May 4, William Chamberlain, Jr., and Mary Day;\r\nBezaleel Brainerd and Hannah Brainerd.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1759.—Paul Gates and Mehitable Rogers; ——, Jehiel Fuller and Sarah\r\nDay; ——, Daniel Shipman and Elizabeth Hartman.—July 10, John Bigelow\r\nand Hannah Douglas.—Nov. 8, John Murray and Desire Sawyer.—Dec. 6,\r\nNoah Day and Ann Loomis.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1760.—David Bigelow and Patience Foote.—April, Roswell Knowlton and\r\nAnn Dutton.—May 7, Thomas Chipman and Bethiah Fuller.—May 29, Levi\r\nGates and Lydia Crocker.—Dec. 9, Lazarus Watrous and Lois Loomis.—Dec.\r\n24, Hezekiah Waterman and Joanna Isham.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1764.—Jan. 8, David Bigelow and Mary Brainerd; Benjamin Morgan and\r\nElizabeth Isham.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAn Early Bell in Salisbury.\u003c/span\u003e—The town records of Salisbury,\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 293]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e Mass.,\r\nunder date of 3, 1st mo. 1647: \"it was ordered yt Richard North shall\r\nhave fivetie shillings for ringing the bell tow yeares \u0026amp; a half past \u0026amp;\r\ntwenty shillings to ring it one yeare more, beginning att Aprill next\r\nensueing.\" A year previous it was \"voated to daube the meeting house.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA. T.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe Boundary Line between Massachusetts and New Hampshire.\u003c/span\u003e—A committee\r\nappointed by the freemen of Salisbury, Mass., in 1658, to determine the\r\nboundary between Salisbury and Hampton (between Massachusetts and New\r\nHampshire), reported, \"the sayed line is very darke \u0026amp; doubtful to us.\"\r\nThe same can be said in 1886, two hundred and thirty-three years later.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA. T.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe occasional revival of an old Indian name for an hotel, club, or\r\nstreet should interest every American. Indeed, such names should be more\r\nfrequently revived than they are, to connect us in our history with the\r\nIndian who preceded us. They also have an educational value. For it is a\r\nfact that many, upon hearing, for the first time, of the \u003ci\u003eMas\u0027cono\u0027mo\u003c/i\u003e\r\nand \u003ci\u003eNan\u0027nepash\u0027emet\u003c/i\u003e hotels at Manchester-by-the-Sea and Marblehead\r\nrespectively, have been led to seek for the origin of the names, and in\r\nthis way have made their first acquaintance with the old Indian chiefs\r\nwho held full sway where the hotels now stand. It is possible that many\r\nhave been led to look up Indian history still farther since the new\r\n\u003ci\u003eAlgonquin\u003c/i\u003e Club was formed in Boston.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is to be regretted that so many of the full-of-meaning, musical\r\nIndian names ever should have been replaced by such commonplace English\r\nones as are now frequently met with. Who can say that \u003ci\u003eChelsea\u003c/i\u003e is an\r\nimprovement on sweet \u003ci\u003eWin\u0027nisim\u0027met\u003c/i\u003e? Or that the slight elevation which\r\njoins that city to Everett, called \u003ci\u003eMount Washington\u003c/i\u003e (how ludicrous\r\nthat must strike strangers who are familiar with \u003ci\u003ethe\u003c/i\u003e Mount\r\nWashington!), was not better as \u003ci\u003eSagamore Hill\u003c/i\u003e, the Indian name for it?\r\nSome of its public-spirited inhabitants are going back to that; and they\r\ndare to prophesy that, by the time Chelsea is a part of Boston as the\r\n\u003ci\u003eWinnisimmet District\u003c/i\u003e, it will have no other name.\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 294]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eLITERATURE AND ART.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe value of town histories is a subject which has been editorially\r\nconsidered more than once in this magazine. Recognizing the importance\r\nof these local histories in their relations to New England history in\r\ngeneral, it always gives us pleasure to note the additions which are\r\nmade from time to time to this department of historical literature. Such\r\nan addition has recently been made in consequence of the centennial\r\nanniversary of the town of Heath, Franklin county, Mass., which was\r\nobserved on the nineteenth of August last, the historical addresses with\r\nother matter having been just published in a neat volume\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_G_7\"\u003e[G]\u003c/a\u003e of about one\r\nhundred and sixty pages.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHeath, which was named from General William Heath, is a striking example\r\nof the decadence of the New England hill towns, its population having\r\nfallen from eleven hundred and ninety-nine in the year 1830, to five\r\nhundred and sixty-eight at present. The site of old Fort Shirley is in\r\nthe township. Fifty years ago, the town afforded an unusual proportion\r\nof its population to the professional ranks, and was noted for its\r\nreligious and educational influence and patronage. The two principal\r\naddresses given in the book are by John H. Thompson, Esq., of Chicago,\r\nand Rev. C. E. Dickinson, of Marietta, Ohio, and will be found valuable\r\nto the general reader, as well as to the native of the town. Excepting\r\nsome typographical errors, the book is a model of such a work, and\r\nreflects credit on the editor, Mr. E. P. Guild.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eLeaves from a Lawyer\u0027s Life, Afloat and Ashore\u003c/i\u003e, contains some very\r\ninteresting personal reminiscences of the War of the Rebellion, and aims\r\nto supplement and correct the too meagre and often inaccurate accounts\r\nof \"the naval and military forces whose services, sufferings, and\r\nsacrifices\" are there passed in review. The theme is popular and\r\ninspiring, and the story is vigorously and eloquently told. The author\r\nadopts a style of narrative admirably adapted to preserve the \"many\r\nhonorable recollections\" he records, and rescue from oblivion a number\r\nof interesting facts which he complains \"are fast vanishing into gloom.\"\r\nThe opening chapter, written from fulness of knowledge, and with a clear\r\nperception of the relative value and importance of facts, will repay\r\ncareful perusal, notwithstanding all that has recently appeared in\r\npopular American serials on the subject of the Civil War. In the\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 295]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\naccount it gives of the blockade of the Atlantic and Gulf ports, after\r\nthe notification of Flag Officer Pendergast, at Hampton Roads, April 30,\r\n1861, we have a splendid illustration of the manner in which, in a great\r\nnational crisis, a lack of resources is made up for by energy, bravery,\r\nand businesslike despatch. The account of the chase of the gold-laden\r\nsteamer R. E. Lee, under the command of the daring Captain Wilkinson, by\r\nthe Federal steamer Iroquois, is very exciting; and the charm thus felt\r\nat the outset is evenly distributed and remarkably well sustained\r\nthroughout the book. Mr. Cowley\u0027s work is valuable, as supplying a place\r\nnot filled by any of the larger and more pretentious histories of the\r\nlate war. Full of vivid description, spicy detail, felicitous citation,\r\nand sparkling anecdote, \u003ci\u003eLeaves from a Lawyer\u0027s Life\u003c/i\u003e is sure to prove a\r\ngenuine source of pleasure to a wide circle of readers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Origin of Republican Form of Government.\u003c/i\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_H_8\"\u003e[H]\u003c/a\u003e This book discusses in\r\nan historico-philosophical vein the genesis, growth, and development of\r\nthe constitution of the American Republic, and the exposition attempted\r\nin its pages, if not exhaustive, is yet lucid, masterly, and suggestive.\r\nWhile unable to admit the soundness of some of the author\u0027s premises, or\r\nto acquiesce in all his conclusions, we are glad to recognize the high\r\nvalue of his contribution to the literature of a profoundly interesting\r\nsubject, which hitherto can hardly be said to have monopolized the\r\nattention and thought of American historians. The author is probably\r\nwrong in thinking that in the pages of his interesting little book he is\r\npursuing an almost entirely untravelled path, but there can be no doubt\r\nthat considerable credit is due to him, for pointing out the exceeding\r\nfruitfulness of a too much neglected field of historical inquiry. The\r\nchapters on the political and religious causes of the Revolution are\r\nworthy of a careful reading, and indeed we cordially commend the book as\r\na whole to all who wish to know the \"record of their country\u0027s birth,\"\r\nand the constitutional guaranties of their personal \"peace, liberty and\r\nsafety.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eBattle of the Bush\u003c/i\u003e,\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_I_9\"\u003e[I]\u003c/a\u003e by Robert B. Caverly, is a series of historical\r\ndramas published in pamphlet form, to be subsequently consolidated,\r\naccording to the advertisement of the publisher, \"into a neat volume of\r\nabout three hundred and fifty pages.\" To those in love with the curious\r\nlegends and romantic incidents of early colonial history this work in\r\nits present attractive form will be especially welcome. The simplicity\r\nas well as savagery of Indian life is here placed in conjunction and\r\ncontrast\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 296]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e with the sober domestic manners and customs, high-toned\r\nmorality and religion of the early Pilgrim people. The various\r\nrelations between the two, incident to neighborhood, trade, and\r\nintercourse,—relations sometimes of friendship and sometimes of\r\nconflict,—are often strikingly exhibited, and the author succeeds in\r\nawakening a genuine interest in those old-time affairs. The beautiful\r\nillustrations which enrich the work give it an additional attraction and\r\nvalue.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eRailroad Transportation; its History and its Laws\u003c/i\u003e,\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_J_10\"\u003e[J]\u003c/a\u003e by Arthur J.\r\nHadley, is worthy of careful study, and is likely to attract some\r\nattention, discussing, as it does, questions of railroad history and\r\nmanagement which have become matters of public concern, and aiming to\r\npresent clearly the more important facts of American railroad business,\r\nto explain the principles involved, and to compare the railroad\r\nlegislation of different countries and the results achieved. Mr.\r\nHadley\u0027s book admirably supplements the extant literature on the\r\nsubject, prominently presenting and ably discussing many hitherto\r\nneglected features of importance. The book will prove valuable to\r\nrailroad stockholders, to statesmen desirous of a fuller understanding\r\nof a question of great national interest, and to the American public\r\ngenerally.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch3\u003eFOOTNOTES:\u003c/h3\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_G_7\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[G]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Heath, Mass., Centennial, August 19th, 1885. Addresses,\r\nSpeeches, Letters, Statistics, etc. Edited by Edward P. Guild. Published\r\nfor the Committee.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_H_8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[H]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e New York and London: G. P. Putnam \u0026amp; Sons.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_I_9\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[I]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Boston: published by the author. For sale by B. P.\r\nRussell.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#FNanchor_J_10\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e[J]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e G. P. Putnam \u0026amp; Sons: New York and London.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca\u003e\u003c/a\u003eINDEX TO PERIODICAL LITERATURE.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e(First numeral refers to foot-note and name of periodical.\r\nSecond number to page. Date of the periodical is that of month\r\npreceding this issue of the \u003cspan\u003eNew England Magazine\u003c/span\u003e, unless\r\notherwise stated.)\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAcademic and Educational.\u003c/span\u003e Tufts College. \u003ci\u003eRev. E. H. Capen. D.D.\u003c/i\u003e 8,\r\n99.—Abbot Academy. \u003ci\u003eAnnie Sawyer Downs.\u003c/i\u003e 8, 136.—Overwork in Schools.\r\n\u003ci\u003eJohn D. Philbrick, LL.D.\u003c/i\u003e 10, 330.—Education in Rome. \u003ci\u003eL. R. Klemm,\r\nPh.D.\u003c/i\u003e 10, 335.—The Problem of Woman\u0027s Education. \u003ci\u003eNicolo D\u0027Alfonso.\u003c/i\u003e\r\n\u003ci\u003eTranslated by V. Chamberlin.\u003c/i\u003e 10, 360.—The King\u0027s English at Home and\r\nat School. \u003ci\u003eJ. H. May\u003c/i\u003e. 10, 369.—Our Insular Ignorance. \u003ci\u003eJohn Robert\r\nSeeley.\u003c/i\u003e 16, 199.—The Lady Teacher. \u003ci\u003eMargaret W. Sutherland.\u003c/i\u003e 17,\r\n55.—The Year\u0027s Work. \u003ci\u003eElizabeth Taylor.\u003c/i\u003e 17, 68.—How Shall we Teach\r\nWriting in Primary Grades? 17, 77.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAnthropology.\u003c/span\u003e The Dance in Place Congo. \u003ci\u003eGeorge W. Cable.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 517.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eArchæology, Philology, and Mythology.\u003c/span\u003e The Origin of the Alphabet. \u003ci\u003eA. H.\r\nSayce.\u003c/i\u003e 16, 145.—Solar Myths. \u003ci\u003eF. M. Müller\u003c/i\u003e. 16, 219.—In the\r\nCatacombs of Italy. 18, 202.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eArchitecture.\u003c/span\u003e Recent Architecture in America. \u003ci\u003eMrs. Sckuyler Van\r\nRenssalaer.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 548.—A New England Home. \u003ci\u003eLyman H. Weeks.\u003c/i\u003e 19,\r\n142.—The Architectural Exhibition. \u003ci\u003eM. G. H.\u003c/i\u003e. 19, 146.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eArt.\u003c/span\u003e Antoine Louis Barye. \u003ci\u003eHenry Eckford.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 483.—On Drapery and its\r\nInterpretation. \u003ci\u003eThomas Gordon Hale.\u003c/i\u003e 16, 255.—Fresco Decoration. 19,\r\n144.—The Decoration of City Houses. \u003ci\u003eRalph A. Cram.\u003c/i\u003e 19, 150.—New\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 297]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\r\nLamps and Old. 19, 148.—Some Designs in Umbrella Stands, etc. \u003ci\u003eF. B.\r\nBrock.\u003c/i\u003e 19, 157.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBiography.\u003c/span\u003e W. H. Brown. J. H. Kennedy. 3, 410.—Thomas Burham. David W.\r\nCross. Henry J. Seymour. 3, 427.—Anecdotes of McClellan\u0027s Bravery. Z.\r\n7, 515.—Anthony Wayne. \u003ci\u003eGen. John Watts De Peyster.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 127.—Toombs.\r\n\u003ci\u003eCharles F. Woodbury.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 125.—Two Old-fashioned Love Matches. \u003ci\u003eHelen\r\nCampbell.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 157.—Auber. 16, 207.—Who was John Harvard? \u003ci\u003eFrank J.\r\nSymes.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 181.—Sketch of Dr. W. E. Carpenter. 5, 538.—Sketch of\r\nJames Eads. 5, 544.—Women in Astronomy. \u003ci\u003eG. Langrange.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 534.—Daniel\r\nWebster as a School-master, \u003ci\u003eElizabeth Porter Gould.\u003c/i\u003e 10,\r\n323.—Relations of Biography with History. \u003ci\u003eHon. Marshall P. Wilder.\u003c/i\u003e\r\n10, 341.—General Grant. \u003ci\u003eGen. L. F. Jennings.\u003c/i\u003e 10, 347.—Lives and\r\nHomes of American Actors. \u003ci\u003eLisle Lester.\u003c/i\u003e 18, 104.—Sherman\u0027s Opinion of\r\nGrant. 13, 200.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eHistory.\u003c/span\u003e—Two Famous London Churches, 1, 144.—The City of Albany. Two\r\nHundred Years of Progress. \u003ci\u003eFrederic G. Mather.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 105.—The Charleston\r\nConvention, 1788. \u003ci\u003eA. W. Clason.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 153.—Historic Aspects of Sable\r\nIsland. \u003ci\u003eJ. McDonald Oxley, LL.B., B.A.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 162.—The New Mexican\r\nCampaign of 1862. \u003ci\u003eA. A. Hayes.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 171.—Army of the Potomac under\r\nHooker. \u003ci\u003eMajor William H. Mills.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 185.—The City of the Straits.\r\n\u003ci\u003eHenry A. Griffin.\u003c/i\u003e 3, 348.—S. S. Cox\u0027s Three Decades of Federal\r\nLegislation. \u003ci\u003eJ. F. Rhodes.\u003c/i\u003e 3, 356.—Siege of Fort Pitt. \u003ci\u003eT. J.\r\nChapman.\u003c/i\u003e 3. 387.—Chicago. \u003ci\u003eConsul W. Butterfield.\u003c/i\u003e 3, 393.—Geography\r\nand Early American History. \u003ci\u003eB. A. Hinsdale.\u003c/i\u003e 3, 433.—Preparing for the\r\nWilderness Campaign. \u003ci\u003eU. S. Grant.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 573.—Our March Against Pope.\r\n\u003ci\u003eGen. James Longstreet.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 601.—With Jackson\u0027s \"Foot Cavalry\" at the\r\nSecond Manassas. \u003ci\u003eAllen C. Redwood.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 614.—On Detached Service, \u003ci\u003eC.\r\nA. Patch.\u003c/i\u003e 8, 121.—The Campaign of Shiloh. \u003ci\u003eGen. G. T. Beauregard.\u003c/i\u003e 13,\r\n159.—A Family Romance of the Time of Elizabeth. \u003ci\u003eA. T. Story.\u003c/i\u003e 12,\r\n491.—Lost Journals of a Pioneer. \u003ci\u003eC. E. Montgomery.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 173.—The Old\r\nRégime of San Francisco. \u003ci\u003eBernard Moses.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 195.—Town Government in\r\nRhode Island. \u003ci\u003eW. G. Foster.\u003c/i\u003e 21, 5.—The Narragansett Planters. \u003ci\u003eEdward\r\nChanning.\u003c/i\u003e 21, 5.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIndustry.\u003c/span\u003e—Pittsburgh Glass and Glass-makers. \u003ci\u003eJ. H. Seymour\u003c/i\u003e. 3,\r\n367.—Beginning of Some Public Enterprises in Western Pennsylvania. \u003ci\u003eW.\r\nS.\u003c/i\u003e 3, 414.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLiterature.\u003c/span\u003e—Original New England Magazine. \u003ci\u003eRev. Edgar Buckingham.\u003c/i\u003e 8,\r\n153.—Macbeth with Kelly\u0027s Music. \u003ci\u003eA. A. Wheeler.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 185.—Recent\r\nVerse. 14, 205.—Recent Fiction. 14, 210.—Poetry, Politics, and\r\nConservatism. \u003ci\u003eGeorge N. Curzon.\u003c/i\u003e 16, 154.—Superfine English. 16,\r\n177.—On Love\u0027s Labor Lost. \u003ci\u003eWalter Pater.\u003c/i\u003e 16, 234.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMedicine, Hygiene, Physiology.\u003c/span\u003e—Instinct as a Guide to Health. \u003ci\u003eFelix L.\r\nOswald, M.D.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 517.—Medical Practice in Damaraland. \u003ci\u003eG. G. Büttner.\u003c/i\u003e\r\n5, 526.—Cause of Acquired Immunity from Infectious Diseases. \u003ci\u003eJames\r\nLaw, F.R.C.V.S.\u003c/i\u003e 15, 97.—Health of United States Army. \u003ci\u003eB. F. Pope,\r\nM.D.\u003c/i\u003e 15, 112.—Yellow Fever Prevention. \u003ci\u003eJoseph Holt, M.D.\u003c/i\u003e 15,\r\n118.—The Plumbers. President Allison\u0027s Circular. \u003ci\u003eA. N. Bell.\u003c/i\u003e 15,\r\n121.—Impure Air and Unhealthy Occupations, etc. \u003ci\u003eC. W. Chancellor,\r\nM.D.\u003c/i\u003e 15, 125.—State Boards of Health of the United States. \u003ci\u003eG. P.\r\nConn.\u003c/i\u003e 15, 133.—Crime and Insanity. 16, 249.—Sanitary House\r\nFurnishing. \u003ci\u003eGlenn Brown, A.A.I.A.\u003c/i\u003e 19, 154.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMiscellaneous.\u003c/span\u003e—Lessons of the America\u0027s Cup Races. \u003ci\u003eJ. Heslop.\u003c/i\u003e 12,\r\n498.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMilitary.\u003c/span\u003e—The Increasing Curse of European Militancy. \u003ci\u003eAlfred Russell\r\nWallace.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 521—The Musket as a Social Force. \u003ci\u003eJohn McElroy.\u003c/i\u003e 5,\r\n485.—The Grand Army of the Republic in Massachusetts. \u003ci\u003ePast\r\nCommander-in-Chief George S. Merrill.\u003c/i\u003e 8, 113.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMusic.\u003c/span\u003e—Chinese Music, etc. 20, 33.—Handel\u0027s \"Messiah.\" 20,\r\n34.—Technical Drill. 20, 36.—Opera Sung by Americans. 20, 37.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eNatural History.\u003c/span\u003e—Will the Land become a Desert? \u003ci\u003eJoseph Edgar\r\nChamberlain.\u003c/i\u003e 7, 532.—Pine Trees of Florida. 12, 581.—Acclimatization.\r\n\u003ci\u003eProfessor Rudolph Virchow.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 507.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003ePolitics. Economics.\u003c/span\u003e—Need and Nature of Civil Service Reform. \u003ci\u003eDorman\r\nB. Eaton\u003c/i\u003e. 4, 171.—Recent Experiments in State Taxation \u003ci\u003eH. J. Ten\r\nEyck.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 460.—Discrimination in Railway Rates. \u003ci\u003eGerrit L. Lansing.\u003c/i\u003e 5,\r\n494.—Influence of Inventions on Civilization. \u003ci\u003eC. Smith.\u003c/i\u003e 5,\r\n474.—Irish Home Rule Agitation: Its History and Issues. \u003ci\u003eRev. H. O.\r\nHewitt.\u003c/i\u003e 8, 157.—The Congo and\u003cspan\u003e\u003ca\u003e[Pg 298]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e the President\u0027s Message. \u003ci\u003eJohn A.\r\nKasson.\u003c/i\u003e 13, 119.—Race and the Solid South. \u003ci\u003eCassius M. Clay.\u003c/i\u003e 13,\r\n134.—America\u0027s Land Question. \u003ci\u003eA. J. Desmond.\u003c/i\u003e 13, 153.—England and\r\nIreland. \u003ci\u003eHenry George.\u003c/i\u003e 13, 185.—Disintegration of Canada. \u003ci\u003eDr.\r\nProsper Bender.\u003c/i\u003e 2, 144.—The Chinese Immigration Discussion. \u003ci\u003eFrances\r\nE. Sheldon.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 113.—Benefits of Chinese Immigration. \u003ci\u003eJohn S.\r\nHittell.\u003c/i\u003e 14, 120.—German Expatriation Treaty. \u003ci\u003eA. A. Sargent.\u003c/i\u003e 14,\r\n148.—The Coming Contests of the World. 16, 164.—An Anglo-Saxon\r\nAlliance. \u003ci\u003eJ. Redpath Dougall.\u003c/i\u003e 16, 190.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eRecreation and Amusement.\u003c/span\u003e—Around the World on a Bicycle. \u003ci\u003eThomas\r\nStevens.\u003c/i\u003e 12, 506.—Croquet in Elyria. \u003ci\u003eW. F. Hurlbert.\u003c/i\u003e 12,\r\n526.—Cruise of the \"Philoon.\" \u003ci\u003eJames F. Jerome.\u003c/i\u003e 12,\r\n548.—Recollections of Mardi Gras. \u003ci\u003eM. R. Dodge.\u003c/i\u003e 12, 566.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eScience and Inventions.\u003c/span\u003e—Bishop\u0027s Ring around the Sun. \u003ci\u003eW. M. Davis.\u003c/i\u003e 5,\r\n466.—Acclimatization. \u003ci\u003eProf. Rudolph Virchow.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 507.—The Problem of\r\nPhotography in Color. \u003ci\u003eProf. O. N. Rood.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 531.—Improvement of East\r\nRiver and Hell Gate. \u003ci\u003eGen. John Newton.\u003c/i\u003e 5, 433.—The Modern Ice-Yacht.\r\n\u003ci\u003eC. L. Norton.\u003c/i\u003e 12, 536.—Some Fallacies of Science. \"\u003ci\u003eOuida.\u003c/i\u003e\" 13,\r\n137.—Hygiene in Dwellings. \u003ci\u003eG. N. Bell.\u003c/i\u003e 15, 151.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan\u003eTravel and Description.\u003c/span\u003e—Hints from Japanese Homes. \u003ci\u003eC. R. D.\u003c/i\u003e 12,\r\n575.—A Vacation in the Tropics. 12, 581.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e1 \u003ci\u003eThe Quiver.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e2 \u003ci\u003eMagazine of Am. History.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e3 \u003ci\u003eMagazine of Western History\u003c/i\u003e (Cleveland, O.).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e4 \u003ci\u003eLippincott\u0027s Magazine.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e5 \u003ci\u003ePopular Science Monthly.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e6 \u003ci\u003eQueries\u003c/i\u003e (Buffalo, N.Y.).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e7 \u003ci\u003eThe Century.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e8 \u003ci\u003eNew England Magazine.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e9 \u003ci\u003eSt. Nicholas.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e10 \u003ci\u003eEducation.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e11 \u003ci\u003eJohns Hopkins University Studies in Historical and Political\r\nScience.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e12 \u003ci\u003eOuting.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e13 \u003ci\u003eNorth American Review.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e14 \u003ci\u003eOverland Monthly.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e15 \u003ci\u003eThe Sanitarian.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e16 \u003ci\u003eThe Eclectic.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e17 \u003ci\u003eThe Ohio Educational Monthly.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e18 \u003ci\u003eThe Brooklyn Magazine.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e19 \u003ci\u003eThe Decorator and Furnisher.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e20 \u003ci\u003eThe Musical Herald.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e21 \u003ci\u003eJohns Hopkins University Studies.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSeveral months ago the publishers of the \u003cspan\u003eNew England Magazine\u003c/span\u003e began a\r\nseries of illustrated papers on the principal colleges, seminaries, and\r\nother educational institutions of New England. In pursuance of this\r\nplan, ably written and amply illustrated articles on Brown University,\r\nTufts College, Abbott Academy, have already appeared; also the Boston\r\nUniversity School of Law, with fine steel portrait of its dean; others\r\nare in hand, or in process of preparation, and will appear in due\r\ncourse, among them being Trinity College, Williams College, Bowdoin\r\nCollege, Andover Theological Seminary, Phillips Academy, Andover, and\r\nPhillips Academy, Exeter, etc., etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cimg alt=\"James Otis\" height=\"450\" src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/philosophy-full-text-work-6363-bentham-9c294be81b-bfe42027b2c37557.jpg\" title=\"\" width=\"323\"\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cpre\u003e\u003c/pre\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan\u003e\r\n\n \u003c/article\u003e"},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Core Thesis","Paragraphs":["Mill evaluates Bentham by preserving utilitarian reform while criticizing narrow psychology, thin moral imagination, and limited understanding of character."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Classification","Fields":[{"Label":"Alternate Titles","Value":"Essay on Bentham"},{"Label":"Key Concepts","Value":"Bentham; utilitarianism; reform; character; moral psychology; happiness"},{"Label":"Methodology","Value":"Direct Mill work-cluster record based on SEP, IEP, Britannica, OLL Collected Works, Gutenberg/Wikisource surfaces, catalog records, and scholarship. No full text is imported."},{"Label":"Structure","Value":"One work-cluster page with explicit integer display year, date note, evidence note, discipline mapping, and public source evidence. Serial publication and posthumous publication notes are documented without importing full text."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Arguments","Paragraphs":["Mill evaluates Bentham by preserving utilitarian reform while criticizing narrow psychology, thin moral imagination, and limited understanding of character."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Influence","Fields":[{"Label":"Influenced By","Value":"James Mill, Jeremy Bentham, Harriet Taylor Mill, David Hume, Adam Smith, Ricardo, Auguste Comte, Coleridge, associationist psychology, British empiricism, and nineteenth-century reform politics."},{"Label":"Influence On","Value":"Liberalism, utilitarian ethics, democratic theory, women\u0027s rights, political economy, empiricist logic, philosophy of science, social reform, analytic liberalism, and debates over liberty and individuality."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Significance","Paragraphs":["Accepted as a direct Mill essay through OLL Collected Works, SEP, IEP, and scholarship evidence.","Mill remains central for liberty, utilitarian ethics, rights, democracy, public reason, induction, scientific method, women\u0027s equality, political economy, secular religion, and liberal social reform."]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Evidence Note","Paragraphs":["Accepted as a direct Mill essay through OLL Collected Works, SEP, IEP, and scholarship evidence."]}],"SectionSequence":["Back Link","Work Title","Deck","Author","Period","Era","Composition","Date Note","Region","Terra Avita","Terra Avita Region","Modern Country","Original Title","Language","Primary Discipline","Secondary Discipline","Tradition","Full Text","Core Thesis","Classification","Arguments","Influence","Significance","Evidence Note"],"Counts":{"ContextCards":3,"GeoCards":4,"DisciplineCards":2,"Links":11,"Sections":24,"Styles":2,"Scripts":1}}