The Project Gutenberg eBook of The New England Magazine, Volume 1, No. 2, February 1866.

Transcriber's notes: Minor typos have been corrected. Table of contents has been generated for HTML version.

TUFTS COLLEGE.

BY REV. E. H. CAPEN, D.D.

Tufts College is situated on the most beautiful and commanding eminence in the southeasterly part of Middlesex county, within the town of Medford and on the borders of Somerville. This eminence was formerly called Walnut Hill, on account, it is said, of the heavy growth of hickory timber with which it was covered at the time of the settlement of the colony, but is now called College Hill, on account of the institution which crowns it. The land on which the College is built is a part of the farm which the late Charles Tufts received by way of inheritance; and, when asked by his relatives what he would do with the bleak hill over in Medford, he replied, "I will put a light on it." The tract of land originally given by Mr. Tufts consisted of twenty acres. Subsequently he gave his pledge to add other valuable tracts adjoining. This pledge has been fulfilled, so that the plot of ground, belonging to the College, given by Mr. Tufts, embraces[Pg 100] upwards of one hundred acres. The late Deacon Timothy Cotting, of Medford, also gave to the College at his decease, a piece of land lying near the institution containing upwards of twenty acres. In consequence of the munificence of Mr. Tufts, it was determined that the College should bear his name.

The definite impulse which resulted in the establishment of Tufts College may be traced to the sermon preached by Hosea Ballou, 2d., D.D., before the General Convention of Universalists, in the city of New York, September 15, 1847. In this sermon Dr. Ballou urged the "duty of general culture" and the importance that a denomination should have "at least one college placed on a permanent basis," with such clearness and emphasis that the movement at once took organic shape and went forward without pause from that hour. Dr. Ballou declared that one hundred thousand dollars was the least sum with which the work could begin and have any prospect of success. The Rev. Otis A. Skinner was appointed to obtain subscriptions to a fund to that amount. The sum was a large one in the then condition of the Universalist body. But in an undertaking of that kind, Mr. Skinner knew no such word as fail. It took years for the accomplishment of his task; but in the summer of 1851 he was able to announce that the subscription was completed. A meeting of the subscribers was held in Boston on the sixteenth and seventeenth of September of that year. A board of trustees was designated who subsequently fixed upon the present site of the institution and determined its name. Application was made to the Legislature for a charter, which was granted April 21, 1852. The original charter conferred the power to grant every kind of degree usually given by colleges,[Pg 101] "except medical degrees." This restriction was removed by act of the Legislature, dated February 2, 1867.

In July, 1852, the Rev. Thomas J. Sawyer, D.D., was elected president of the College. But he declined to accept the office on the terms prescribed, and in May, 1853, the Rev. Hosea Ballou, 2d, D.D., was chosen to the office, which he filled until his death in May, 1861. In July following his election the corner-stone of the main College hall was laid by Dr. Ballou. The event was one of great interest and significance, and drew together a large company of people from different sections of the country. A year was spent by the president in visiting the most prominent institutions of learning at home and abroad, preparatory to[Pg 102] organizing the new College, and laying out its course of study. In the work of organization, Dr. Ballou received important and valuable assistance from John P. Marshall, the present senior professor and dean of the College of letters. The College was first regularly opened for the admission of students in August, 1855, though a few students had been residing at the College and receiving instruction from

the president and Professor Marshall during the previous year. In the beginning the success of the institution was as marked as its friends could reasonably expect. But the great anxiety attending the beginning and development of so important an undertaking seriously affected the health of Dr. Ballou, and he was cut down before the College could avail itself of the transcendent abilities which he brought to the discharge of his duties, and before he could witness the almost unexampled material prosperity awaiting it. President Eliot generously said not long since that the remarkable growth of Harvard University in these later years is largely the fruit of the efforts of James Walker, a fit contemporary and fellow-worker in the cause of education with Dr. Ballou. Truly, other men labor and we enter into their labors. In an important sense the College was the creature of Dr. Ballou's brain. He had so clear a conception of the[Pg 103] nature and scope of an institution of learning of the highest grade suited to this latitude and these times, and he was so successful in producing a conviction of its possibilities in the minds of rich men, that they were ready to devote to it their all. But he died before the fruits of his labors had begun to appear.

In the spring of 1862, the Rev. A. A. Miner, D.D., was elected to succeed Dr. Ballou, and continued to hold the office until his resignation in February, 1875, a period of nearly thirteen years. Dr. Miner did not take up his residence at the College nor relinquish his connection with the School Street parish in Boston, of which he was pastor. But he visited the College daily, or as often as his presence was required. It was during his presidency and largely through his instrumentality that the extraordinary material development of the College was secured. Very soon after its establishment, Silvanus Packard, a prosperous merchant and a parishioner of Dr. Miner, who was without children, announced his intention of making Tufts College his child. He gave generously to it during his lifetime, and, dying, bequeathed to it nearly the whole of his property, amounting to nearly three hundred thousand dollars. The donations and legacies of Mr.[Pg 104] Packard exceed in amount those of any other benefactor. The one who comes the nearest to him in the aggregate of his gifts is Dr. Wm. J. Walker. This gentleman divided his princely estate between the following institutions: Amherst College, the Museum of Natural History in Boston, Tufts College, and Williams College. The share which Tufts College received in this distribution was upwards of two hundred thousand dollars. The benefactions of Dr. Walker are remarkable, if we remember that he was an alumnus of Harvard College, an Episcopalian in religion, that his trusted friend and counsellor at the time he was arranging for the disposal of his property was Thomas Hill, D.D., the president of Harvard University, and that Tufts College was in the earliest stages of its development. But notwithstanding these facts, sufficient in themselves to warp the judgment of ordinary men, his vision was clear enough to enable him to see that there was room for another great college to grow up in the neighborhood of Boston, even under the shadow of that ancient and renowned university.

Another notable friend of Tufts College was Dr. Oliver Dean. In the beginning he made very liberal offers, provided the institution should be placed in Franklin. Subsequently he devoted the greater portion of his wealth to the founding of Dean Academy, one of whose functions was to be the fitting of young[Pg 105] men for the College. He also showed still more distinctly his favor to the College by contributing in all $90,000 to its funds.

But the College was especially fortunate in its infancy and when it was practically without funds in having for its treasurer Thomas A. Goddard, a wealthy merchant; a man utterly void of personal vanity, whose eyes swept over the whole field, and who, wherever he saw that the cause could be promoted by a timely benefaction, very simply and unostentatiously bestowed it. So when the College was almost entirely without funds and had but a small part of the income needed to meet its current expenses, he quietly paid the deficiency out of his own pocket and preserved it from debt.

At the conclusion of the first half of the college year, 1874-75, Dr. Miner, having previously resigned his pastorate in Boston, tendered his resignation of the presidency of the College. Neither institution, however, was willing to accept his resignation, and each sought to retain his entire services. After mature deliberation he decided to accept the invitation of the parish, and his official connection with the faculty of the College which he had held with distinguished ability and success for thirteen years was thus permanently severed.

The Hon. Israel Washburn, Jr., the war Governor of Maine, was chosen as his successor. But he promptly declined the office. The trustees then determined to make a new departure and place an alumnus of the College at its head. Accordingly the present incumbent, at that time pastor of the First Universalist Church of Providence, R. I., and a graduate of the class of 1860, was elected to the vacant chair in March, 1875, and was inaugurated on the second day of June following. Whatever may be the ultimate verdict concerning the wisdom of the trustees in the selection which was then made, no one will deny that the calling of an alumnus to the post has had the effect of quickening the interest and securing the co-operation of the graduates of the institution beyond anything that could have been done.

I come now to speak briefly of certain changes in the internal life of the College, many of which have taken place under my own eye, and with the shaping of which in important respects, during these later years, I have had something to do. In the matter of development few institutions in this country have made greater progress. It is a long step from what the College was when I[Pg 106] knew it as a student, to its present condition; so that those who were only acquainted with its life fifteen or twenty years ago would scarcely recognize it as the same life to-day. Indeed the modifications which have been introduced into its discipline and into its courses of study have aroused an interest in its work outside of and beyond mere denominational lines, and are beginning to attract to it students from many miscellaneous sources.

One of the chief difficulties in the way of local patronage has been the overshadowing influence of Harvard University. It was scarcely to be expected that an institution planted in such close proximity to that powerful and venerable seat of learning would, in the beginning, attract students from its immediate neighborhood. Many persons have thought that the location of the College is a mistaken one on that account. But colleges are not made in one day nor in one decade. It will take more than Leland Stanford's twenty millions of endowment to give his University a solid and enduring fame. Colleges, indeed, like all the great and permanent institutions by which society is upheld, and the welfare and progress of humanity are secured, are the slow growth of generations. The selection of the present site of the College cannot be regarded as other than fortunate; first, because of its proximity to Boston, the most important literary centre of the new world, where it may constantly feel the pulsations of every intellectual movement that takes place in the domain of thought; and, secondly, because, owing to its contact with the foremost college in the land, it has been compelled to adopt and maintain the highest standards in its work. The result of this is seen in the steady growth of recent years. During the last five or six years there has been a good percentage of attendance from schools in the immediate neighborhood of the College which have heretofore sent their students almost exclusively to Harvard. Men have been drawn to the College wholly without reference to denominational lines, simply because they believed the College had advantages to offer unsurpassed by any institution in the country. Within the last two years the College has made a gain in students of at least forty per cent. The whole number who entered the different departments in the year 1884-5 was sixty-one, and although the number entering in 1885-6 was somewhat less, yet the whole number in the College is greater than ever before, namely, one hundred and forty, of whom twenty-six[Pg 107] are in the Divinity School, and the remainder in the College of letters.

The course of study originally adopted was substantially that of the leading New England colleges. It has adhered throughout very firmly to its standard. The ten associated colleges of Southern New England voted at their annual meeting in 1879 that it is desirable to adopt a system of uniform requirements for the admission of students. Tufts was one of the first to accept the scheme proposed by the conference of examiners in the different institutions. The faculty as originally constituted consisted of three professors beside the president; and for many years, the entire work of the College was performed by not more than five teachers. The gifts and benefactions of Dr. Walker, designed mainly for the promotion of mathematics and related branches of study, enabled the trustees to enlarge the facilities for instruction on the side of science. A professorship of civil engineering was created in 1867. This department has been enlarged gradually, until now men may receive complete courses of professional instruction in civil, mechanical, and electrical engineering. Some very able engineers, holding important and responsible positions, have received their training here. The subjects of natural history, physics, and chemistry have each been assigned to separate chairs. The department of physics has two excellent working laboratories. Besides the regular work in physics with the College classes, original investigations are carried on under the direction of Dr. Dolbear, the professor of physics, and assistant-professor Hooper. In the department of chemistry, the organic research laboratory has been very carefully equipped for that line of work, and offers facilities for original investigation which will compare favorably with those of any similar laboratory in the country. During the past year very considerable additions to chemical knowledge have been made by Professor Michael and his able corps of assistants. Of the department of natural history we shall speak later on.

The only degree given in the beginning as a reward for residence and study in the College was that of Bachelor of Arts. But the presence of a large number of students who were not prepared to take that course of study in full led to the organization of two additional courses, one leading to the degree of Civil Engineer, and the other to the degree of Bachelor of Philosophy. The[Pg 108] latter course has received many modifications, and in the autumn of 1875 it was determined to make it a four years course, the same in all respects as the regular course, except that it omits Greek and substitutes instead of it the modern languages and some elective work in science. Previous to 1875 the work of the College was mainly prescribed, with but little opportunity for optional or elective studies. At that time the scope of electives was greatly broadened. There are now eleven full courses of electives open to students. From the middle of the junior year, a very large percentage of the student's work is in those lines which he chooses for himself. It was decided also, immediately after the elective system went into effect, to confer special honors at the time of graduation upon any student who attains distinction in any particular study and in two cognate studies, under such rules as the faculty have prescribed. Another important movement in the direction of sound scholarship was made about this time. It was determined that the degree of Master of Arts, which, so far, had been granted to all graduates of the degree of A.B. who applied for it after three years from their graduation, should be conferred only upon such graduates of the regular and philosophical courses as should pursue, during a residence of not less than one year, under the direction of the faculty, a prescribed course of study in at least two departments. The privilege of graduate study was also opened to those holding like degrees from other colleges. The result of this action has been to retain at the College for more protracted and profound study ambitious and scholarly men out of every class.

The modifications of discipline have been no less important either in their character or results. Formerly in all the New England colleges an elaborate system of rules, enforced by an oversight, which often amounted to espionage, was thought to be necessary to good order and the proper moral development of young men. In the eyes of the students, the faculty of a college seemed to be little else than a grand court of inquisition for the trial and punishment of offences against discipline. In point of fact, a very large percentage of the time of college officers was spent in that business. At Tufts, perhaps more completely than in any other New England college, all this is changed. Formal rules relating to conduct have been abolished. Men are put entirely upon their honor, and are no longer watched. Since 1875,[Pg 109] there has not been a single case of a student summoned before the faculty or a committee of the faculty for discipline. Under this policy the gain in the orderly behavior, moral tone, and contentment of students has been immense. For eleven years only one student has been sent away from the College for misconduct; and not more than one or two, so far as I remember, have left the College because of dissatisfaction either with its methods or its facilities; while the relative percentage of those who graduate to those who enter has risen in twenty years from sixty-three per cent to nearly eighty per cent, placing us, in this respect, in the front rank of New England colleges.

The whole number of graduates is now about four hundred. Of this number representatives may be found in the principal walks of almost every one of the learned professions. As an indication of the quality of scholarship produced, it may be remarked that the catalogue of 1885-6 shows that no less than nine of the officers of instruction and government, including the president, are from its own graduates. The board of trustees consists of twenty-nine persons. Of this number ten are from the alumni of the College.

Silvanus Packard by will directed that the trustees should establish and maintain out of the rents and profits of his estate, one theological professorship. The Rev. Thomas J. Sawyer, D.D., was elected Packard Professor of Theology, and the Divinity School, with Dr. Sawyer at its head, was organized and opened for the admission of students in 1869. At first one professor was associated with Dr. Sawyer and very soon another was added to the faculty. There are at present four professors besides Dr. Sawyer in the Divinity School. The course of study, at the opening of the school, leading to the degree of Bachelor of Divinity was three years. But so large a number of those applying for admission were found to be deficient in elementary training that the course was lengthened to four years for all, except college graduates.

In order to give greater encouragement to men having the Christian ministry in view to secure college training before entering the Divinity School, after the present year, while a preparatory course of one year for all who have not the degree of A.B. will be retained, the degree of B.D. will be given exclusively to college graduates. Upwards of sixty students, since the organization[Pg 110] of the School, have taken the prescribed course in theology and received the degree of Bachelor of Divinity. Of this number nearly one half are in charge of important parishes in Massachusetts, and others in different parts of the country are occupying some of the most prominent and influential pulpits.

When the present site of the College was selected, the hill was without trees and almost repulsive in its nakedness. The erection of the main college building and the first dormitory only served to heighten its windswept appearance. But other important buildings have been added; walks and driveways have been laid out; trees have been planted and have attained, on the southerly slope, a thick and heavy growth, and are beginning to get a hold upon the northerly side; the reservoir of the Mystic Water Works is established upon the summit of the hill, and, in effect, forms a part of the College grounds; so that, in the summer season, there is no more beautiful or attractive spot in the whole region about Boston than College Hill. In 1882-3 a very important feature was added to its cluster of buildings by the erection of a stone chapel from funds provided by Mary T. Goddard. The style of the edifice is Romanesque with a genuine Lombardic tower. It is as graceful a piece of architecture as can be found in this part of the country and is a worthy memorial of the woman, who, with her noble husband, has been so efficient a promoter of the origin and growth of the institution. Since the completion of the chapel, Mrs. Goddard has built and finished at her own expense an excellent gymnasium.

One of the most important additions of recent years has been the founding of the Barnum Museum of Natural History. In the spring of 1883, the writer suggested to the Honorable P. T. Barnum that as he had been all his life engaged in collecting rare objects in certain departments of natural history for the purpose alike of popular amusement and instruction, it would be most appropriate for him to leave behind him, as his monument, a natural history museum in connection with the College of which he was one of the original promoters and founders. The response was instantaneous. He directed me at once to procure plans and specifications of a building which would admit of indefinite extension, and submit to him an estimate of the cost. In accordance with the foregoing scheme, the present museum building has been erected; and a beginning has been made also in the endowment[Pg 111] fund. The museum, which is only the central portion of what is intended to be a much larger building, is a structure of dignity and beauty. The first, or basement floor, which is almost wholly above ground, is occupied by the steam-engine and by the necessary laboratories and work-rooms. The second, or main floor has, besides a large lecture-room, a grand vestibule, containing a marble bust of the donor, by Thomas Ball. Here the larger and more important specimens of natural history now belonging to the College are deposited. Here also the skin of Jumbo and the skeleton of the white elephant are to find their ultimate resting-place. The third floor comprises a large exhibition hall, fifty feet wide by seventy feet long, with a gallery running completely around it. In addition to the important cabinet already belonging to the College, Mr. Barnum authorized Prof. Henry A. Ward to furnish a fine zoölogical collection. This collection comprising several hundred choice specimens, selected with special reference to purposes of instruction, has been received, mounted and set up in cases specially designed for the purpose.

The library has had, on the whole, a very satisfactory growth. Dr. Ballou's extraordinary love for books led him to bestow particular attention upon its formation. He was unremitting in his solicitation of gifts from friends and acquaintances and from publishers and booksellers. The interest awakened by him has never flagged. There are now in the possession of the College upwards of twenty thousand bound volumes, many of them rare and of great value, and eight or nine thousand pamphlets. The collection has entirely outgrown the quarters assigned to it, and needs a building specially adapted to its use. A gentleman of ample fortune has privately assured the president that such a building shall be supplied at an early day.

The College has been distinguished for its liberal policy towards those young men who are obliged on account of limited means to struggle for their education. The charge for tuition is $100 a year. But there are more than thirty scholarships in the gift of the College. By means of these the tuition may be cancelled for those who prove their worthiness by superior attainments. In addition to these, gratuities are given in cases of need, so that the instruction is practically free to all men of promise and fidelity whose circumstances require it. It is a gratifying fact that some of the most distinguished and successful of its graduates are[Pg 112] from among those who have enjoyed its pecuniary favors, and who would have found a liberal education impossible without them. Moreover, on account of the isolation of the College, there being no villages in immediate contact with it on either side, it is not only extremely favorable for study, but admirably adapted to those who are obliged to practise economy. Probably there is no institution in America where a student can have equal advantages at so low a cost.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] The publishers have taken the liberty of incorporating in his article this portrait of President Capen.

THE MENDICANT.

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD.

Like some way-weary mendicant came I
Unto the court where Love holds potent reign,
And there in desolation I was fain
Before the gateway to lie down and die.
But one came forth who heard my mournful cry,
Nor mocked nor spurned me with a cold disdain,
But cheered me, saying, "Do not nurse thy pain!
Be brave and bid the ghosts of dead days fly!"

Then I arose and cast the Past aside,
And felt within my breast a gladness great
That I dared meet the eyes that beamed above:
And all the future time was glorified,
For I, who was a beggar at the gate,
Became a dweller in the court of Love.

THE GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC IN MASSACHUSETTS.

BY PAST COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF GEO. S. MERRILL.

When the American Volunteer Army was disbanded in 1865, by reason of the completion of the great work for which it was organized, had it been individually suggested to each one of that million of men whose eager faces were turned homeward, to become united in a veteran association, probably ninety-nine out of a hundred would have responded, "No; I've had all that I want of soldiering; no more for me."

And yet, so strong did the ties of war-comradeship prove; so tender were the memories of camp and march, of bivouac and battle; so full of heart-stirring events was the record of intimate service in the face of great peril, that even before the final disbandment, among the earlier returning veterans, soldier associations had already sprung into existence. Quite a number of these had their origin in 1864, and even the date and place of birth of the Grand Army of the Republic, with its membership of over three hundred thousand, is in doubt; two States at least, Indiana and Illinois, claim its parentage; and while there are absolutely no reliable data as to the place or exact time of the preliminary meetings out of which the great organization grew, there is a tradition—if the dim memories of only twenty years ago can be so called—that at a casual meeting of returned volunteers in Illinois in the latter portion of 1865, it was discovered that in the little group nearly all were possessed of certain mysterious signs, grips, and pass-words, by which various small bands of firm friends in rebel prisons had secretly bound themselves together for mutual protection. To no men had the value of organization come more forcibly than to these; and in this almost chance gathering was the beginning of the Grand Army of the Republic. There was, early enough after the close of the war, another reason beyond all questions of sentiment or association, demanding some form of organization among the returned soldiers and sailors. Empty sleeves, single legs, eyeless sockets, and emaciated bodies were too often coupled with personal necessities, and[Pg 114] the maimed and diseased in need of charity or employment began to point out the larger and growing demand for organized work in behalf of suffering and dependent ones; and to what hands could this be so well committed as to those of old comrades in arms? The Post of the Grand Army of the Republic holding the first regular charter was organized in Dakota, Illinois, in the early spring of 1866, and in July following a department, including then some forty posts, was organized in that State.

In October of the same year the association had extended into eight or nine other States, and a call was issued for a convention to be held at Indianapolis, Indiana, November 20, 1866, and here the National Encampment had its organization.

Massachusetts was not represented in the gathering, the Grand Army at that time having but just obtained a foothold in this State. In September, 1866, a convention of returned soldiers and sailors representing nearly all the northern States was held at Pittsburg, Penn. Among those present from Massachusetts were Gen. Charles Devens, Gen. N. P. Banks, Major A. S. Cushman, and Chaplain A. H. Quint. On reaching Pittsburg, the attention of the Massachusetts comrades was attracted by badges worn by a large number of delegates, particularly from Indiana and Illinois, bearing the legend, "Grand Army of the Republic;" and so numerous were these badges that a spirit of inquiry was quite naturally awakened as to the character and objects of this "Soldiers' Masonic Order," as it was termed by the uninitiated. After some consultation, a number of the Massachusetts delegates, including those we have named, were informally inducted into the organization, in the parlor of B. F. Stevenson, who at the first national encampment a few weeks later was made provisional Commander-in-chief; the ritual and unwritten work was communicated to the new members, and they were fully empowered to organize posts in Massachusetts, General Devens being appointed provisional Grand Commander of the department. On returning from Pittsburg there was something of a rivalry for the organization of the first post. Comrade Cushman, who had been active in the association of the "boys in blue," was especially enthusiastic; and, capturing an old army associate upon the train homeward, he poured into his ears such an account of the new organization, that as soon as they reached New Bedford, they went out into the highways, and summoned a sufficient number of their comrades; and on that[Pg 115] very day, Oct. 4, they organized the first post of the Grand Army of the Republic in Massachusetts. This still holds the initial number, Wm. Logan Rodman Post, No. 1, of New Bedford. The charter fee was at once forwarded to provisional Commander Devens, thus making sure of the coveted distinction.

A day or two later, these comrades organized a second post at Nantucket and a third at Taunton. Comrade Cushman exhibited such zeal and earnestness in this work that provisional Commander Devens insisted on having that position formally transferred; and the latter therefore resigned, and asked for the appointment of Mr. Cushman in his stead, which was accordingly made. As in the case of the national history of the Order, partially consequent thereon, but in a larger degree because of the destruction of all the department records in the great Boston fire, the early story of the Grand Army in Massachusetts is incomplete in many details, but it appears certain that during the existence of the provisional department under Comrade Cushman, ten posts were organized. On the seventh of May, 1867, a permanent department was organized by a delegate convention called at New Bedford, Commander Cushman being elected Department, or, as then termed, Grand Commander.

Inspiring his new official associates with something of his own ardor, Commander Cushman divided the state into ten districts, with a recruiting officer to each, and the "missionary work" was so vigorously prosecuted that the commander was able to welcome to the regular annual encampment in January, 1868, the representatives of over forty posts, with a membership of fully two thousand, while applications for nearly a score of additional posts were nearly ready for consideration. During the year 1867, a visit of Gen. P. H. Sheridan to Boston was made the occasion of a torchlight parade of the posts of the Grand Army, and the fine appearance made by the organization on this first public display attracted general attention, and was doubtless one means of largely increasing the membership.

As has been stated, on account of the careless compilation of records at national headquarters, and the substantial downfall of the posts in the West, where its great strength was at first, the history of the early years of the order is left in much uncertainty. But the organization had in the western states a wild, riotous growth; the meagre reports extant naming two hundred thousand[Pg 116] as the membership in 1867; but the utter lack of organization, and the intrusion of politics, left the order, almost as speedily as it had sprung into existence, a complete wreck.

At the close of the year 1870, the department of Illinois, where the Grand Army had its birth, had been reduced from over three hundred posts, and a membership of forty thousand, to less than twenty-five posts, and these barely existing in name; and two years later its entire membership was but two hundred and thirty-eight. Indiana, with two hundred and seventy-nine posts, and thirty thousand membership, had become utterly disorganized; Iowa, with one hundred and forty-four posts, had ceased to have a recognized existence; the thirty posts in Kansas had dwindled to nine; Minnesota had shrunk from twenty-five to two posts; the one hundred and twenty-nine posts in Missouri had no department existence; in Wisconsin, of seventy-nine, less than a dozen were left, and in Pennsylvania, one hundred and forty-three out of two hundred and twenty-four had been disbanded. At the session of the National Encampment in May, 1870, the Adjutant-General reported that only three departments, Massachusetts being one, could give the exact number of the members upon their rolls, and the national headquarters were then involved in over $3,000 of indebtedness.

But in Massachusetts, the founders of the Grand Army of the Republic wisely bolted and double-barred the doors against the intrusion of partisan topics, and the growth of the organization was steady and continuous. In January, 1868, comrade A. B. R. Sprague was elected to succeed Commander Cushman, and at the end of his term was able to report seventy-three posts, with a membership of six thousand one hundred and eighty-nine.

How well the department of Massachusetts kept, through these early years, the Grand Army banner in the front, is evidenced by the following:—

The percentage in this department alone of the entire membership in the United States was, in 1872, 38 per cent; 1873, 42 per cent; 1874, 43 per cent; 1875, 38 per cent; 1876, 32 per cent; 1877, 33 per cent; 1878, 30 per cent; 1879, 21 per cent.

From the latter year, because of the rapid growth in Pennsylvania and New York, and of the reorganization and great increase of the departments in western states, this percentage was rapidly decreased to six per cent in 1885, but for ten successive years the[Pg 117] official national reports accord to Massachusetts, in all respects, the position of "the banner department." In April, 1868, Commander-in-chief Logan issued his order for the observance annually of the thirtieth of May as a Memorial Day, "for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of those who died in defence of their country during the late rebellion," and the ceremony into which so much of tenderness and patriotic love has since been wrought, was most heartily inaugurated in this department.

Comrade F. A. Osborn succeeded Commander Sprague, occupying the position during the year 1869. Within his term, a new ritual, establishing three grades or degrees, was adopted by the National Encampment, largely in compliance with the desires of the members of the western departments, against the earnest opposition of Massachusetts, where was a strong wish to "let well enough alone." This change was the first adverse blow felt in this department, where not only was the rapid and continuous growth of the organization retarded, but in a single quarter ending Sept. 30, 1869, there was a net loss of one thousand seven hundred and nine members. But this was partially recovered during the subsequent three months, and the Assistant Adjutant-General was able to report at the close of the year, one hundred and seventeen posts, with nine thousand members. During this year there was put in operation the system of careful inspection of the several posts by department officers, which has since become a part of the national regulations, and which, from its inception in this department, has contributed so largely to the efficiency and growth of the organization. With the retrogression of the western departments, Massachusetts in this year went to the front in point of numbers, as confessedly also in perfection of organization and completeness of Grand Army work, and held that position until 1880, when Pennsylvania passed her in point of membership. It will be impossible in the limit of this article to speak in detail of each distinctive year's administration, but the numerical loss of membership was not the most serious result of the introduction of the grade system; among those who then dropped out of the organization, disbelieving in the departure from the original simplicity of forms, were some of the most active and influential members, the loss of whose interest and personality was severely felt for years.[Pg 118]

During 1870 and 1871, the growth was small, and high water mark for that period was reached in the first quarter of 1873, when a membership of ten thousand and seventy was reported. From this point came a reaction, the numbers slowly and steadily diminishing for six years, the lowest point in membership being reached in the spring of 1879, when there were but seven thousand seven hundred and forty-eight upon the rolls.

From that time, slowly at first, but without retrogression, the membership has risen to its present point, numbering eighteen thousand.

The question of an appropriate badge, which had received much consideration by two successive National Encampments and their committees, was finally settled by a resolution passed October 28, 1869, adopting the design now in use, to be made of bronze from cannon captured during the war.

During one or two years of the Grand Army in this state, there was no organized charity work, but the necessity for systematized action early became evident, and in 1870 posts began the establishment of a relief fund, placed in the hands of trustees, and administered by special committees; and in this direction Massachusetts has grandly led all other departments, having expended in the past fifteen years, from the various relief funds of posts, over $600,000.

This work has been most thoroughly systematized, in nearly every instance cities being divided by wards, and large towns into districts, with a special investigating committee for each, and, from the intimacy of association, the knowledge of records, and the veterans' natural hatred of shams, a like amount of money could hardly have been as judiciously or economically disbursed through any other channels; while from no hands could aid to the family or dependent ones of a needy veteran come with so little of the chilliness of reluctant charity as from those of old comrades-in-arms.

Unlike most, perhaps every other charitable society, the larger part of this money has, continually, from the first, been expended in behalf of those who are not of its membership.

From time to time the posts have appealed to the public, by fairs, concerts, lectures, and like entertainments, for the means to replenish their relief funds, and the response has ever been worthy the generosity and patriotism of the Commonwealth.[Pg 119]

With the incoming of Commander Horace Binney Sargent, in 1876, the Grand Army entered upon a new and broader field in its work of fraternal charity; large as had been the liberality of Massachusetts towards its veterans, the Commonwealth yet lacked for its own what the national government had established for the helpless and needy wards of the Republic,—a Soldiers and Sailors Home. With the same earnestness and fervor which had made him the trusted military confidant of Governor Andrew, and later, a splendid commanding officer in the field, Commander Sargent threw himself into the work of securing this great need of the Commonwealth. The times were far from auspicious; business was suffering from severe depression, property values were feeling the apparent shrinkage incident to the approach to a coin basis, Comrade Sargent personally being among the foremost sufferers, while the strength of the Grand Army was from these causes constantly diminishing; and, at the outset, not a few of the members of the organization doubted the necessity for, or feared the failure of, the project. But there was contagion in the fiery enthusiasm and terrible earnestness of Commander Sargent, and, slowly at first, but surely, the plan won its way. Breaking their hitherto and since invariable rule of "one term" elections of department commander, the comrades in Massachusetts a second and a third time re-elected Commander Sargent, and, before the close of the latter term, he saw the beginning of the end in the establishment of a Soldiers Home on Powder Horn Hill, Chelsea.

The work had been of slow growth; the posts were appealed to, public meetings were held, and at camp-fires and other gatherings the necessity for the procurement of a Home was strongly urged; but during the earlier months there were only a few tangible evidences of prospective success, here and there a small contributor, so that many who had been enthusiastic became downcast and discouraged. But there was one comrade whose faith failed not, and when the workers wearied, Comrade Sargent became only the more resolute and determined. During his second term, he was able to announce the receipt of a small bequest in the will of a generous lady, and this afforded the basis for yet more persistent appeals to the public. An act of incorporation[Pg 120] was procured from the legislature, by which the control of the institution was placed in the hands of the Grand Army, by the selection of a majority of the trustees from this organization. With the small amount of money secured, a beginning was made by the purchase of the property now used as a Home, and on the eighth day of June, 1881, the dedicatory exercises were held, and the Home opened July 25 of the following year. Already, however, a movement had been inaugurated for a grand bazaar in December, at the Mechanics' Building in Boston. Gen. Sargent, who had been chosen President of the Board of Trustees, which position he filled until his removal from the state, succeeded in interesting a large number of the leading citizens of the state, and was fortunate in calling to his aid as chief marshal, Col. A. A. Rand, to whose admirable organizing powers much of the success of the bazaar was due. The women, always loyal to the veterans, went enthusiastically into the work, the posts joined heartily, and the general public responded liberally, and at the end nearly fifty thousand dollars was turned over to the Treasurer of the Home, which, with the addition of $10,000, the munificent gift of Capt. J. B. Thomas, enabled the managers to pay the balance of the purchase money upon the property, and largely increase the number of inmates. For more than five years past, the deserving applicants have been in excess of the capacity of the Home, and there was also an imperative necessity for enlarged hospital accommodations.

In 1884, therefore, steps were initiated for the Carnival, held in Boston in February, 1885. By another bit of good fortune, Col. A. C. Wellington was secured as chief marshal, and again success crowned the effort, over sixty thousand dollars being realized as the net result. The legislature makes an annual appropriation of $15,000 towards the support of the Home, which now contains one hundred and ten inmates, to be increased about thirty upon the completion of the new hospital building.

Since the institution of the Grand Army in Massachusetts, its commanders have been as follows:—

1866, provisional, Chas. Devens, A. S. Cushman; 1867, A. S. Cushman; 1868, A. B. R. Sprague; 1869, Francis A. Osborne; 1870, James L. Bates; 1871, William Cogswell; 1872, Henry R. Sibley; 1873, A. B. Underwood; 1874, J. W. Kimball; 1875, Geo. S. Merrill; 1876-77-78, Horace Binney Sargent; 1879,[Pg 121] J. G. B. Adams; 1880, John A. Hawes; 1881, Geo. W. Creasey; 1882, Geo. H. Patch; 1883, Geo. S. Evans; 1884, John D. Billings; 1885, John W. Hersey; 1886, Richard F. Tobin.

The Assistant Adjutant-Generals, to whose systematic work this department has been so greatly indebted for its efficiency, have been Thomas Sherwin, Henry B. Peirce, James F. Meech, and Alfred C. Munroe.

Having for eight years led in members and excellency all the departments of the country, with its record of over $600,000, expended in its relief work, with $120,000 now held for that purpose, with a membership of nearly eighteen thousand, and possessing the only Soldiers Home in the nation, established solely through its own efforts and still maintained in its hands, the Grand Army of Massachusetts has a right to be proud of its exemplification of the virtues of "Fraternity, Charity, and Loyalty."

ON DETACHED SERVICE.

AN EPISODE OF THE CIVIL WAR.

BY CHARLES A. PATCH, MASS. VOLS.

Most sketches of battle-scenes, in their voluminous details of movements and vivid descriptions of action, so completely hide the actual feelings of the men engaged that the inexperienced may be pardoned the thought, that, having donned the insignia of a soldier, a man instantly becomes filled with martial ardor, and eager to face the most withering fire of musketry or artillery. But the reality is far different; very few men are so constituted, or are so reckless of their lives, that they can listen to the unearthly screech of the shell or the crash of solid shot, mingled with the sickening thud of grape and bullets, without a shiver of weakness creeping through their systems, and a helpless knocking of their knees together. It is a military fact that lines of combatants as they go into position are not made up of heroes, and regiments which won renown in such scenes of carnage as Fredericksburg, or Gettysburg, or the Wilderness, were composed of plain, quiet men, who were faint-hearted and homesick when forming in front of flashing batteries or heavy bodies of opposing troops. It was only[Pg 122] when completely involved in the struggle, after the madness of excitement had overcome the real man, that they proved themselves to be, what we now know them, heroes. But it very often happened that troops were placed in positions where neither glory nor honor could redound to them, however brave they might be, and where the results of such movements were not at all in keeping with the loss of life incurred. This little sketch covers somewhat such an occasion, where troops comparatively new in the service were ordered to perform work which seemed uncalled-for and extra hazardous, and of so little consequence that no record will ever be made of it, although lives were lost in its accomplishment. An inside view is simply given of the true feelings and actions of men at such times, and necessarily lacks the glow of enthusiasm which is thrown around the picture of the historic battle. But to the story.

If there was one feature in the South which annoyed the Federal commanders more than another it was the railroad system. Through its medium they were enabled to supply their armies from the great plantation centres where war was unknown. With a railroad at the back of each army, they were enabled to move with small wagon trains, and could utilize troops that would otherwise have been detached as guards. By its potent power, also, the troops were hurried from point to point of the Confederacy, thus keeping the Federal armies so long outside the charmed circle of the seceded States. With worn-out rails, scant supply of carriage-material, and wheezy engines, they performed herculean labor throughout the war. Consequently it became the favorite pastime and the almost sole business of Union cavalry to destroy or attempt destruction of railroad communication. Thousands upon thousands of valuable lives were sacrificed in such movements, and without any material damage to the fighting centre of the Confederacy.

Our department commander, becoming infatuated with this method of making war upon the South, was urging his corps towards a well-known railroad junction one clear, cool day in December, '62. We were some fifty miles from our base, and bodies of the enemy were continually harassing our line of march, sometimes meeting us in sharp conflict, and at all times impeding our progress by road-obstruction. Already the killed and wounded were counted by hundreds, and the coveted goal still far away.[Pg 123] As we plodded wearily along, wondering what would happen next, one of the division staff dashed up to our brigadier and ordered him to detach one of his regiments and send it to support cavalry that had seized a bridge some miles to our right. It was the fortune of our regiment to be detached for the service, and we marched into a wood-road, rather depressed in feelings, and sadly missing that sense of security which the fellowship of a large body of men gives to the soldier. On we went for about three miles through dense woods that chilled one's very marrow with their gloom. Occasional glimpses of bits of blue sky through the overarching branches were the only reminders that the outside world remained as it used to be. Once or twice we passed small openings in which some poor white had located, and where half-naked children were the only signs of civilization, or, rather, uncivilization, till, at last, under the guidance of a scout, we filed into a clearing about a quarter of a mile from the bridge. Through the woods we could see two guns planted in the road at the bridgehead, and a squadron of dismounted cavalry supporting them. The smoke rising from the partially burnt timbers, and the frequent interchange of rifle and carbine shots, with now and then the roar of artillery, gave ample evidence that business would soon be lively in that locality. The outlook was not at all enlivening; our regiment was small in number, the woods dark and treacherous,—the main army adding mile upon mile to the interval between us,—and we were very forcibly impressed that even railroad-smashing, in plenty of company, was far better than bridge-burning with such lonesome surroundings.

While chewing the cud of reflection, and anxiously considering the situation, a major of cavalry appeared from the woods calling for assistance, and cold perspiration covered us as our captain was ordered to place his company under the major's direction. Command was given to "Fall in," which we did with very solemn faces, and whisperings went through the ranks that we guessed it was all up with us; but the order to "March" called us to duty and we proceeded down the road accompanied by a battery, which had at that moment arrived and proved a welcome addition to our meagre force. Halting in a clump of trees, a short distance from the river, we divested ourselves of all luggage and then made our way through the woods to the edge of a field that bordered on the river bank; quietness reigned as we deployed as skirmishers,[Pg 124] and just before we advanced, the cavalryman pleasantly informed us that when the line struck a certain stump, we should get abundant notice of our Confederate friends' proximity. Not in the least overjoyed at this information, we crept slowly forward, all eyes and ears, and as the extreme left came into line with the stump, the heavens opened, or at least we thought they had, and six pieces of artillery sent their compliments in the shape of so many barrelsful of grape. One grand whir-r-r-r went over us, around us, and, in imagination, through us; it took but the sixtieth part of a minute for fifty men to flatten themselves upon the earth and wish they had never gone to the war. No time was wasted in examining the topography of the position, or in looking for safer quarters, our military discipline showing itself in the unanimity with which we then and there dropped as one man. In the short interval between the first and second discharges of grape, one of those incidents occurred which often turns the seriousness of battle into a seeming frolic. While considering the expediency of advancing, our attention was drawn to the antics of several cattle, which had been quietly grazing near by, now so thoroughly astonished at the strange proceedings that they were literally attempting to carry out the old Mother Goose rhyme of "jumping over the moon." With tails stiff as crowbars and hind legs higher than their heads, they were cavorting around the field, bellowing with fright, and making such an extremely ludicrous spectacle, that, in our excited condition, it was more than we could bear, and almost hysterical laughter weakened us so that we were hardly able to move. But the range of the enemy's guns was too accurate to admit of a long stay in this locality, so we pushed on, rolling or crawling, to the thin line of trees by the river, continual discharges of grape adding increased momentum to our movements, and solid shot from our own battery crossing us so closely that it made the neighborhood more dangerous than social. Drawing long breaths of relief at last, behind the partial shelter of a rail fence, we began to make as close investigation of our opponents across the stream as the difficulties of the position would allow. We found the country thickly inhabited, every stump and tree sheltering its quota of men in gray, and six ugly-looking cannon at work upon our position with a rapidity and precision that was certainly commendable to them, if not fully appreciated by us. However, we soon lost our fears and misgivings in our eagerness to make the climate as warm for[Pg 125] them as they had so far made it for us, and we settled down to our work with a vim that would have made old veterans envious. The river was so narrow that every movement on either side was visible, and, lying flat upon the ground, we fired for hours at any signs of life, and were continually answered by the zip-zip of bullets as they flew past our heads, or buried themselves in the rails above us. Thus the conflict continued; grape and solid shot tore frantically over us, plowing up the dirt and crashing through the woods in the rear, filling our ears with the most frightful din. Our greatest difficulty was in loading, for if so much as a hand was exposed to view, such a rain of lead would be sent our way that it took some minutes to assure one's self that he was not killed. Once in a while, the word would be passed along, "George is wounded," "Ned is killed," or, "Serg't Smith" has a hole through his arm, and we would instinctively get closer to the ground and flatten ourselves out as thin as possible. Hunger and thirst also began to tell on us, and we longed for the darkness to come, but our opponents with their larger force held us to our work, seeming loth to have us depart.

About dusk the order was given to fall back quickly and quietly, but how to do it safely in the face of a regiment of Confederates was a puzzle to be solved; edging backward till at fair distance from the fence, we suddenly rose and scampered, in knots of two or three, at break-neck speed for the other side of the field, with bullets and grape buzzing around us like angry wasps. When, at length, we gathered, shivering with the cold, around our pile of blankets, and felt hungrily in the emptiness of our haversacks for one remaining cracker, the prevailing feeling was that "we wanted to go home," but, to our intense disgust, we were ordered to eat our hardtack, if so fortunate as to have any, and, as soon as sufficiently dark to conceal our movements, to picket the river bank near the bridge and be ready to support the battery in any attempted night surprise. This we felt to be an outrage on good nature, and so expressed ourselves in language not at all polite. We were tired and hungry, and the night cold and sharp, but orders are orders and must be obeyed, and we moodily wended our way to our various stations.

Nevertheless we were not at all in harmony with the poem, but felt perfectly willing and wholly competent to instruct our commanders on the correct way to handle troops. As we pushed on through the underbrush and débris of the forest, the smallest stick trod upon would crack like a rifle-shot, and the unearthly howl of a dog, in the yard of a hut near by, made our hair stand on end as it echoed through the woods. The hours passed tediously as we peered through the darkness across the sluggish stream to the opposite side; but a little after midnight movements of the enemy, which they did not try to conceal, awakened our fears; the noise of bodies of men moving from different points, mingled with the sound of voices and frequent shouts, led us to feel that life would be safer and pleasanter behind our battery, when an officer came from the rear and ordered us to come out in a hurry. We didn't stand upon the order of going, but "got, right smart,"—not a word of fault was found, nor a complaint made, out of harmony with the officer's wishes. Company was formed at once, and the retreat up the road commenced, many an eye peering back into the darkness to see if the expected pursuit had begun; and had we waited an hour longer, our march would have been towards the prison-pens of Georgia, for our opponents then crossed the bridge with a force that would have swept us away in a moment; and the longer we live the happier we feel that our curiosity remained unsatisfied. Upon reaching the regiment we learned that our corps, having been unable to accomplish the object in view, as so many other expeditions failed to do, were in retreat, with heavy forces fresh from Lee's army in pursuit, and that it behooved us to cover the three-mile interval in double-quick time if we would join the procession in safety. We had been without rations all day, and for drinkables had only the water that lay in puddles by the roadside; but, wearied as we were, we kept pace with the other companies, muttering bitter imprecations against everybody in general, as we stumbled into holes or tripped over sticks in the intense darkness of the forest road. At early dawn we fell into the line of the retreating corps, but not till near midnight did the army halt with the feeling that it had placed safe distance between it and our adversaries. Then we 'broke ranks for rails,' and, with coffee and pipes, sat beside the cheering blaze recounting the incidents of the engagement. Our little encounter, so insignificant beside the story of great battles, was yet full of interest to us, and[Pg 127] some were missing from our ranks who would never again respond to their country's call. To them and theirs it was the great battle of the Rebellion; to us, who live to tell of it, only an episode of army life.

A TOWN MEETING-HOUSE,

AND TOWN POLITICS IN THE LAST CENTURY.

BY ATHERTON P. MASON, M. D.

Nearly a century ago the little town, now the prosperous city, of Fitchburg, Mass., was the scene of a fierce contest that lasted a decade. Never in the history of the town was there contention so bitter or opposition so determined as that shown in the ninety-nine town meetings held during the years 1786-96. The cause of this tempest in a teapot was the location of a new meeting-house.

At that time the "center of the town" was in the easterly part of the township, in the vicinity of the present Union Passenger Depot. Here were located the rather shabby yellow meeting-house, Cowdin's tavern, Dea. Ephraim Kimball's mill, Joseph Fox's "red store," and several dwelling-houses. Westward from this ran a country road (now Main Street) along which were scattered half a dozen houses. West of the present junction of River and Main Streets there were almost no habitations until reaching the high land, now known as Dean Hill, about 1-3/4 miles distant. This high land was early settled by farmers, because of the excellent soil, and comparative freedom from early frosts. Here were two taverns, a blacksmith's shop, a store, and a number of dwellings. These people in the west were considerably removed from the river, which at that time was regarded as a curse to the town, and were desirous of being separated from Fitchburg in order to escape the heavy tax annually levied to maintain bridges. Moreover the west was then the more flourishing settlement, and its inhabitants began to feel that they ought to have a meeting-house of their own, and not be obliged to travel to the easterly part of the town to attend church,—in a word they felt rather abused at being considered a suburb.

Early in 1785 one of the articles in the town-meeting warrant[Pg 128] was, "To see if the town will take into consideration the request of Jacob Upton and others, to see if the town will set off the inhabitants of the north-westerly part of Fitchburg, with their lands and privileges, free and clear from said Fitchburg, to join the extreme part of Westminster, with the north-easterly part of Ashburnham, to be incorporated into a town, to have town privileges, as other towns." Had this request been granted a new meeting-house would have been built near Upton's tavern; but it was promptly dismissed. Baffled, but not dismayed, the petitioners came to the town meeting held in May, 1785, with a proposition to annex to Fitchburg "about a mile or more in width of land, with the inhabitants thereon, of the northerly part of the town of Westminster," and these additional people were "to join the inhabitants of said Fitchburg to build a meeting-house on Ezra Upton's land." This scheme was very artful, but the wise men of the east saw that such a move would throw the balance of power into the hands of the west, and therefore voted it down.

These two defeats stirred up the people of the west, and they determined to carry their point in some way. In March, 1786, they petitioned "that Rev. Mr. Payson have liberty to preach some part of the time in the year in the westerly part of the town." This was certainly a modest request, but was denied, the people of the east evidently thinking that if they yielded an inch they might, at no very distant date, have to travel two or three miles.

All this, however, was but a skirmish. The date of the beginning of the real contest was Sept. 12, 1786, when, it was voted "to build a new meeting-house in the centre of the town, or in the nearest convenient place to the centre." It was thus agreed that a new house was to be built, but where to build it was not easily determined. The maxim, large bodies move slowly, was verified in this instance, for, although there was much private sputtering in regard to the location, no further public action was taken for two years. Meanwhile Jedediah Cooper and Jacob Upton, the two tavern keepers in the westerly part of the town, despairing of any redress, determined, together with some of their neighbors, to have a meeting-house among themselves at any rate. They accordingly erected in the course of time a shabby structure, just within the limits of the town, which was used to some extent for preaching; but the proprietors did not take much care of it, and its dilapidated[Pg 129] appearance earned for it the name of the "Lord's Barn." It was sold and taken down about sixty years ago, and the proceeds of the sale (about thirty-six dollars) were divided among the proprietors.

Sept. 9, 1788, the subject was again brought before the town by means of an article in the warrant,—"To see if the town will erect a meeting-house in the centre of the town, or receive any part of Westminster that shall be willing to join with us, and then erect a meeting-house in the nearest convenient place to the centre." This article was put into the warrant by the people of the west, whose underlying object was the formation of a new town, while the rest of the inhabitants were strenuously opposed to this project. No action was taken on this article at this meeting. A few days later, Sept. 23, a meeting was called, at which a committee, consisting of Moses Hale, Oliver Stickney, Daniel Putnam, Jacob Upton, and Asa Perry, was appointed "to find a place to erect a meeting-house in the most convenient place to accommodate the inhabitants of the town of Fitchburg." The result of the investigation made by these five gentlemen was that two of them found the most convenient place to be in the west, two in the east, and the remaining member was upon the fence. A town meeting was held, Oct. 2, to hear the report of this committee, and when it had been given it was rejected, and the gentlemen were promptly discharged from further services in that direction. A motion was then made to place the new house on the site of the old one: this was negatived. Then, "after much consideration," as the record says, it was voted "to erect the new meeting-house in the nearest convenient place to the centre." Such brilliant progress must have been altogether too gratifying, for a few minutes later it was voted "to reconsider all votes hitherto passed relating to this matter." At this stage in the proceedings the meeting was adjourned to nine o'clock of the next day.

On the following morning the parties proceeded to business. It was first moved to place the new house where the old one then stood; this was again negatived. It was then moved to place it "on the hill near Phineas Sawyer's house, on the land belonging to the heirs of Mr. Ezra Upton" (in the westerly part of the town). The meeting was divided on this motion, "to find a true vote," as the record states, and thirty-two voted in favor of it and seventeen against it. So by a vote of nearly two to one it was decided to[Pg 130] place the new house in the west, and it looked as if everything was going on swimmingly. A committee was chosen, consisting of Reuben Smith, Asa Perry, Phineas Sawyer, Elijah Carter, and Jacob Upton, "to be invested with power to agree with the owners of the new frame erecting for a meeting-house (that of Jacob Upton and others before mentioned) in the north-westerly part of the town, if that appear cheapest for the town,—otherways are invested with power to provide materials and timber for building a new meeting-house in the prudentest manner for said town on said plat of ground." This committee was instructed to report progress at the next town meeting.

This was a bitter pill for the east to swallow. Resolved on retaliation, the east called a town meeting immediately "To see if the town will comply with a request of a number of the inhabitants of Fitchburg, to grant that they, together with their respective estates and interests, may be set off from Fitchburg and annexed to Lunenburg." This request was denied. The honest people, who, for the sake of peace and reconciliation had favored the west at the previous meeting, were now thoroughly alarmed. They held the balance of power, and were in a very unpleasant predicament. If they voted to place the new house in the east, the west threatened to form a new parish; and if they favored the west, the east evinced strong symptoms of returning to the parent town of Lunenburg.

Meanwhile, undaunted by this sudden squall in the east, the committee had bargained for the frame of the new meeting-house being erected in the north-westerly part of the town, prepared a site for the new house on the land of Ezra Upton's heirs, and done sundry other wise things. Nov. 17, 1788, a town meeting was called to listen to the report of this committee. Their excellent progress was set forth with great confidence, whereupon the meeting gravely voted not to accept the report, and added insult to injury by summarily discharging the committee from further service. This was done by the peacemakers who were at their wits' ends, and this time threw their influence into the eastern scale. At this meeting a committee was chosen to find the centre of the town. After a survey, the centre was found to be on the land of one Thomas Boynton, about five hundred feet north of the pound. Their report was accepted at a town meeting held Dec. 18, 1788, and a committee, consisting of Thomas Cowdin, Phineas[Pg 131] Hartwell, Oliver Stickney, Daniel Putnam, and Paul Wetherbee, was chosen to bargain for a site in the most suitable place. This committee bought twenty-two and a half acres of land, a little south of the pound, of Boynton, paying therefor two dollars and thirty-three cents per acre, and the town approved this action.

The west, not thinking this location near enough, resorted to the old scheme of forming a new town, and called two meetings for that purpose, thereby scaring the conscientious peacemakers nearly out of their wits; but for some reason or other the men of the west did not put in an appearance, and these two meetings were uncommonly peaceable. The petitions were dismissed. The reason of their non-appearance at these meetings probably was that the people of the west, who all this time were carrying on their plans vigorously but quietly, as will soon be seen, wished to lull the rest of the town into a sense of security.

At a meeting held Nov. 2, 1789, the town voted "to erect a new meeting-house on the land purchased of Thomas Boynton," and a committee was chosen to take the matter in charge. Two weeks later the town voted to reconsider all former votes; so that at the end of four years the town was in the same position regarding this matter as when it began operations, with the exception of owning twenty-two and a half acres of real estate. The cause of this singular action was the culmination of the move on the part of the west, alluded to above. The people of the west, together with portions of Westminster, Ashburnham, and Ashby, had presented to the General Court a powerful petition for an act of incorporation into a town.

"This petition set forth in glowing colors the delightful situation of the contemplated town—how nature had lavished all her skill upon it—how admirably adapted for a township by itself was the noble swell of land—and that nothing in nature or in art could exceed the grand and imposing spectacle of a meeting-house towering from its summit, while beneath the said swell was a region of low, sunken land which almost cut off the petitioners from intercourse with the rest of mankind.[B]"

This meant business, and the inhabitants of Fitchburg drew up a spirited remonstrance, in which they were joined by the people in those portions of the three adjoining towns not included in the[Pg 132] proposed new township. In this remonstrance every statement of the petitioners was denied, and the whole thing denounced as visionary. This matter engrossed the attention of both parties during 1790, and the result was that the General Court refused to incorporate the new town.

After such a vigorous contest a brief breathing spell was necessary; but Sept. 7, 1791, the town voted, forty-one to twenty-three, "to erect a new meeting-house in the centre of the town, or in the nearest convenientest place thereto." This double-barrelled superlativeness shows that the spirit of the people was by no means cast down by the fruitless struggle of five years. At this meeting a committee was appointed to plan a new house. Oct. 10, this committee reported to the town "to build a house sixty by forty-six feet, with a porch at each end twelve by eleven feet, with stairs into the galleries." There were to be forty-six pews on the ground floor, and twenty-five in the galleries, to be sold to the highest bidders, and three years were to be allowed in which to build the house. This report was accepted at a meeting held Nov. 14, 1791. A committee was also chosen to clear a site upon the land purchased of Thomas Boynton and build the house. Dec. 27, 1791, the town with its usual consistency voted "to dismiss the committee chosen to build a new meeting-house from further service." Thus the matter again stood as at the beginning.

For nearly three years thereafter the pot continued to boil, but nothing more was done about church affairs in town meeting, except that on May 17, 1793, the people showed their obstinacy by refusing "to repair the meeting-house windows, and to paint the outside of the meeting-house."

Sept. 3, 1794, operations were again renewed by voting "to erect a meeting-house in the centre of the town, or in the nearest convenientest place thereto, to accommodate the inhabitants thereof for divine worship." Three disinterested individuals, Joseph Stearns and David Kilburn of Lunenburg, and Benjamin Kimball of Harvard, were chosen by ballot as a committee to discover that much-to-be-desired spot, "the nearest convenientest place to the centre." They found the centre to be a little less than a quarter of a mile north-east of the pound, but considered the most eligible location for the house to be about a half a mile south of this point, which would have placed it near the present junction of Main and[Pg 133] River Streets. Oct. 21 a meeting was called to hear their report and it was rejected 36 to 29. So the opinions of interested and disinterested persons seem to have been considered of about equal value—as good for nothing.

Nov. 21, 1794, a motion "to place the meeting-house on the spot where the committee out of town proposed" was negatived, forty-eight to forty-five. A committee was then appointed to select a suitable place. Dec. 1 this committee reported in favor of "setting the meeting-house near the high bridge, under the hill" (the place the out-of-town committee had proposed). This report was accepted, sixty-one to forty-seven. A town meeting was therefore called Jan. 8, 1795, to choose a committee to purchase the land agreed upon; but at the meeting the town refused to choose such a committee, and so ended the plan of building a meeting-house there.

Jan. 26, 1795, the town voted "to erect a meeting-house on the town's land they purchased of Thomas Boynton, about five rods south-west from a large white oak tree, and to pattern it after the Leominster meeting-house." It was to be completed by the last day of December, 1796.

Feb. 9, 1795, the town chose a committee of three "to view Ashburnham meeting-house, and take a plan of the inside, and consult with Asa Kendall of Ashby for the mode of finishing the inside, and laying a plan for building the house." A week later the report of this committee was heard and accepted, and it was voted to pattern the new house after the one in Ashburnham. "Likewise voted to have the length of said house sixty-two by forty-eight feet, the posts to said house to be twenty-seven feet in length, and that the undertaker to build the house give bonds, with good bondsmen, to fulfil the contract." The contract was given to John Putman, Jr. Then followed other town meetings which regulated the size of joists to be used, and other minor matters that need not be here dwelt upon, Sept. 1, 1795, a committee of five was chosen "to stake out and oversee the clearing and levelling of the meeting-house spot for the underpinning on the town land." At this meeting it was also voted "that the Selectmen lay out a four-rod road in the best place to accommodate the travel to the new meeting-house spot."

At this time plans seem to have been perfected, and the prospect[Pg 134] of a new house on the town land tolerably assured; but Oct. 19, 1795, everything was completely upset. On that day a meeting was called "to know the sense of the town whether the former vote in placing said meeting-house should be altered." After some wrangling, it was decided by a vote of forty-four to thirty "to place the new meeting-house at the crotch of the roads, near Capt. William Brown's house" (very near the present junction of Main, Mechanic, and Academy Streets). This decision was final. It is rather difficult to see how it happened to be, for this site was a little east of the town land. The opposition put in one final blow in this way. It was designed to have the house face directly "down street" and the underpinning was laid with a view to this, but the opposition party mustered enough strength to change the plan so that it should face the south and "stand cornerwise to the street."

So the momentous question was finally settled, and early in the summer of 1796 the raising occurred. This was of course an event of great importance, and extensive preparations were made to celebrate it. On May 9, 1796, a town meeting was called "to see if the town will make any provision for the refreshment of the Raisers and also the Spectators that shall attend upon the raising of the new meeting-house." It was then and there voted most amicably and unanimously "that the town provide one barrill W. I. Rum and Loaf Sugar sufficient to make it into Toddy for refreshment for the Raisers and Spectators that shall attend the raising of the new meeting-house." A committee was also chosen, consisting of Deacon Daniel Putman, Deacon Ephraim Kimball, Deacon Kendall Boutelle, Reuben Smith, Joseph Polley, Dr. Jonas Marshall, and Asa Perry, "to deal out the Liquor to the Raisers and Spectators on Raising Day." It would seem as if a barrel of rum would suffice to make enough toddy to satisfy the cravings of all that would gather to witness this raising, but the people were evidently overflowing with hospitality, and bound to have a rousing time after waiting for it so long, for before the adjournment of the meeting it was voted "that the committee to deal out the Liquor and Sugar sufficient for the Raisers and Spectators, in case the barrill of W. I. Rum and Sugar already voted should be insufficient, procure more and bring in their account to the town for allowance."[Pg 135]

This was the only meeting in ten years where there was no contention or bitterness of feeling. For once these good people were all of the same mind, and a "barrill of W. I. Rum," which in these days gives rise to such excited controversy, in the presumably degenerate days of 1796 acted like oil upon the troubled waters.

The raising came off successfully, but it is not definitely stated how much rum was consumed thereat. However here is a copy of the order to reimburse Deacon Boutelle for the refreshment expenses.

"To Ebenezer Thurston Town treasurer you are hereby Directed to pay Deⁿ Kendall Boutwell thirty eight Dollars and one Cent it being for providing Rum and Shugar for the Raising of the new Meeting house and this with his Rec^t shall be your Discharge for the above sum

"may y^e 12 Recd a Note in behalf of the Town of fitchburg of thirty Eight Dollers and one Sent in full of the within Order

Such in substance was the controversy about the location of the meeting-house. The contest was characterized by zeal, obstinacy, and bitterness, manifested equally by both factions, and so fierce was the strife that the people of adjoining towns, for miles around, were in the habit of flocking into Fitchburg to attend town meetings.

The edifice was dedicated Jan. 19, 1797, Rev. Zabdiel Adams of Lunenburg preaching the sermon. This house became, a few years later, the church of the First Parish (Unitarian) in Fitchburg, and stood until 1836, when it was removed, and a brick church, now standing, was built by the Unitarians on nearly the same site.

FOOTNOTES:

[B] Torrey's "History of Fitchburg," Fitchburg, 1836.

ABBOT ACADEMY.[C]

BY ANNIE SAWYER DOWNS.

Joseph Cook says, "Andover, Mass., has founded several new Institutions. Under the elms on Andover Hill is a study, in which a prayer-meeting was once held weekly to devise ways and means of doing good. There originated the first religious newspaper. There began its existence an American Tract Society which now sifts its printed counsels, like the dew, over a hemisphere. There, in imitation of a Scottish custom, was instituted the American missionary monthly concert of prayer, in response to the wants of an American Missionary Society, also originating in Andover, and on whose operations now the moon goes not down by night nor the sun by day. There had its birth the American Education Society, which to-day rings its college bells all the way from Niagara to the Yosemite. There was commenced the American Temperance Society, which in our crowded cities has before it a work of which even wakeful eyes do not yet see more than a glimpse of the importance." It was, therefore, natural that the first incorporated school for the higher education of girls in this Commonwealth should find its birthplace in Andover; and that the first public meeting of which we have any record whose sole object was the education of girls, should have been held in its South parish, Feb. 19, 1828, at the house of James Locke, Esq. The meeting adjourned after voting "that it was desirable and necessary a female academy should be established in this place," leaving the matter in the hands of a committee who were to raise funds and see if a lot of land could be obtained. At the next meeting, on the 4th of March, only a fortnight later, this committee reported that the way was clear to draw up a constitution, buy a lot of land, erect a brick building two stories high, for which funds should be raised by subscription, and that[Pg 137] the school should be put under the charge of trustees. These trustees, seven in number, were: Rev. Milton Badger, pastor of the South Church, Andover; Rev. Samuel C. Jackson, pastor of the West Parish Church, who served until his death, a period of more than fifty years; Samuel Farrar, Esq., treasurer of Phillips Academy; Hon. Hobart Clark, State Senator; Mark Newman, formerly principal of Phillips Academy; Amos Abbot, Member of Congress, and Amos Blanchard, succeeded in later years by his son, Rev. Dr. Amos Blanchard of Lowell. Drs. Badger and Jackson and Esquire Farrar were to draft a constitution, while Messrs. Clark and Newman were to serve as a building committee. But, alas! then, as now, it was easy to vote away money, but not easy to collect it; easy to order buildings begun, but hard to find any way to pay for them. So at a trustee meeting, July 4, 1828, it was voted that it was not expedient to erect a building for the Female Academy with their present means. At the Semi-Centennial of Abbot Academy in June, 1879, several persons were present who remembered the sadness and disappointment which settled down upon the hearts which had been so sanguine of success when the plan was first made public. But it is always darkest just before day, and on July 24, 1828, "most important information" was communicated at a meeting of the trustees. The first site selected had not been universally approved. A lady, daughter of Mr. Adams, then Principal of Phillips Academy, writes, "It was the determination to put the new academy on Main Street; but many Andover mothers were dissatisfied, as this was the street most frequented[Pg 138] by Theologues and Phillips boys. My mother and Mrs. Stuart consequently drew up a petition requesting a change in location. Elizabeth Stuart (mother of Elizabeth Stuart Phelps) and I circulated said petition. When we had received a sufficient number of signatures, it was handed to the trustees, who deemed the 'objections formidable'; so a portion of the 'important information' was that Deacon Mark Newman had presented the enterprise an acre of land on School Street, and that Madam Sarah Abbot pledged one thousand dollars to be paid at her death." Esquire Farrar was ready to advance the money on such security, and it was gratefully voted to take the deed of Deacon Newman, and begin directly to build from a plan furnished by Mr. Goddard, Principal-elect. Mr. David Hidden of Newburyport contracted to do the work, being assisted by Mr. William Saunders of Cambridge, who, it is said, is proud to claim the honor of having made the columns which support the front portico. Professor Park, who came of age the year Abbot Academy was born, and who entered Andover Theological Seminary the autumn the Academy was building, and who often amused himself by walking upon the uncovered floor joists, adds his testimony to that of many contemporary notices which declare the completed structure, with its fine proportions and classic porch, to be not only the pride of the town but of Essex County.

So Abbot Female Academy fell into line with the other beneficent institutions established by men of kindred blood to its founder, and who, like her, were enthusiastic in their love for learning, passionate in their benevolence, and extraordinarily endowed with common sense.[Pg 139]

The act of incorporation was passed Jan. 25, 1829; and there is no record that any opposition was made or any encouragement offered, although all were aware that it was a pioneer enterprise, for a local journal says, "Abbot Academy is the first house built in New England by a corporation for the exclusive work of educating women." Madam Sarah Abbot not only pledged the one thousand dollars before mentioned, but advanced additional moneys from time to time when the exigencies threatened destruction; and so arranged her property before her death in 1848, that two years later, upon the 28th of February, 1850, the trustees came into possession of a sufficient sum to make the whole amount $10,109.04. Naturally enough the infant institution took her name, for, though Abbot Academy has received many donations since Esquire Farrar electrified her by his decided advice, "Surplus money! Use it to found an academy in Andover for the education of women!" she is still its largest as well as its first giver. The grand-daughter [D] of one Abbot, the daughter of another, and the wife of a third, she led a secluded life, unillumined by those opportunities for culture which she appreciated highly for others, and oftentimes, without doubt, like other great benefactors, half uncertain if the generosity, which to her more than frugal habits must have seemed excessive, was not as injudicious as it was unusual. For, as Rev. Phillips Brooks said at a meeting on behalf of Abbot Academy, in Boston, upon the 12th of January, at the time the school was founded, great ideas and great processes which have not yet[Pg 141] begun to fulfil themselves had just begun to impress

themselves on men's minds. The old and the new existed together; and that Madam Abbot, without advantages of early education herself, could so entirely have appreciated them that she was willing to bestow her all upon the new scheme, speaks volumes for her strength and foresight. Her portrait, probably painted by T. Buchanan Read, still hangs on the wall of the pleasant hall built by her timely liberality; and women, scattered all the way from Maine to Japan, as they recall its sagacious features, quaint dress, and old-time air, say to their pupils, or record in their books, or whisper lovingly to the little children round their knees, that old Mrs. Abbot in far-off Andover was their real Alma Mater.

May 6, 1829, Abbot Academy opened with eighty-five pupils, from the little ones who did not know their letters, to young women of eighteen and twenty. One who was there says, "Henrietta Jackson (afterwards Mrs. Dr. Cyrus Hamlin) sat at my left." Another describes the three gifted daughters of Professor Stuart, one of whom became the first wife of Professor Phelps and the mother of Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, who in her turn has likewise been a pupil of the school. As we look over the list of the girls[Pg 142] who went in and out under the Ionic porch of the new academy, we see they were by inheritance and nature well worthy the broad and generous course of study marked out for them by Dr Jackson, Samuel Farrar and the others. That course, of more than half a century ago, was as wide as any laid down in the women's colleges to-day; and although it was gradually modified in conformity with popular sentiment, still it speaks well for the sagacity and practical wisdom of the trustees. It is pleasant to note that Dr. Jackson lived to see his theories of women's education carried into practice by the establishment of colleges for them. Mr. Charles Goddard, grandson of Dr. Langdon, president of Harvard University, was the first principal of Abbot Academy. He was tall and fine looking, with refined and polished manners, worshipped by the little girls and greatly admired by the older ones, who, as one of their number writes "woke up wonderfully and enjoyed their studies exceedingly." "It was the universal opinion," says another, "that the advantages offered by Abbot Academy were very superior to anything in the region, and the building was considered commodious and elegant." French and German were taught by Dr. William Gottlieb Schauffler, whose[Pg 143] romantic history and extraordinary musical gifts had already attracted much personal interest, and whose after career has made his name a household word from the shores of the German Ocean to the Stairs of the Bosphorus. Who wonders that he was a hero to those girls of fifty years ago? No theological student called upon them who had not some story to tell of his enthusiasm, daring or cleverness, and how eagerly must they have listened as the adventures of his magic flute were dwelt upon.

For twenty-one years Abbot Academy was under the charge of principals who were all college graduates and men of exceptional powers, uncommon cultivation, and thorough interest in their work. There was no fund (then as now it depended upon its fees, systematically as low as possible) to pay running expenses, and although its superior character as a school attracted as many pupils as it could accommodate it had a hard struggle to live. Very early in its existence it was evident that its great lack was a boarding-house for students from a distance, and many attempts were made to remedy the deficiency. If the principal had a family, he accommodated all he could; the trustees provided for several brief periods common tables, but generally they lived in private houses scattered about the village.

In 1853 two great events took place. The first was the offering of the principalship to a woman, and the second the resolve of the trustees "that it is indispensable to the prosperity, and even perpetuity of the Academy, to raise the sum of eight thousand dollars in order to procure suitable accommodations for the boarding pupils." Although the link may not be apparent, the second is really the logical result of the first for it was the enthusiasm of Miss Nancy J. Haseltine, who had accepted the position of principal, that urged them on with an irresistible force. She had come to them from Townsend, Mass., bringing a large following of pupils, and she found it impossible to provide for them satisfactorily, besides she saw clearly, as the Punchard Free School was opened in Andover that year, Abbot Academy must henceforth, as time has proved, depend chiefly upon patronage from out of town. There was no doubt about the situation of the new building, the only land the trustees owned was the acre given them by Deacon Newman in 1829; so they must set it in the rear of the Academy, but where could they get the money? Again, man's extremity was God's opportunity. Deacon[Pg 144] Peter Smith, who offered the resolution, promised $1,000, Mr. John Smith $1,500, though in reality the brothers Smith gave before the house was finished enough to amount to $6,611. Justly was it named Smith Hall, for its whole cost was but seven thousand thirty-three dollars and sixty-four cents. But how was the great empty house to be furnished? Mrs. H. B. Stowe, then living in Andover, talked it over with Mrs. Dr. Jackson and Mrs. Professor Park and declared a festival should do it. And the festival did bring in $2,000 which furnished Smith Hall, and prouder, happier women never slept on Andover Hill than those who had so courageously and triumphantly carried the plan through.

Smith Hall has now been far more than a quarter of a century the home of the pupils of the academy, during that portion of the time when they are not attending to modern languages. Poverty has been its constant companion, sternly forbidding any unnecessary expenditures, yet it has always presented a cheerful, even tasteful appearance to strangers, as well as to the scores of girls who cherish its memory tenderly. The highly successful term of Miss Nancy J. Haseltine was all too brief, and after her, Miss Maria J. Brown and Miss Emma L. Taylor, sister of Dr. S. H. Taylor, filled the last three years of the first thirty of Abbot Academy. In September, 1859, the present principal, Miss Philena McKeen, entered upon her duties, bringing with her from Oxford, Ohio, her sister, Miss Phebe F. McKeen, as first assistant. Miss McKeen's management of affairs has been as wise as fortunate, as disinterested as successful, and Abbot Academy now stands among the very first of the girls' schools in the country.

The year 1862 is memorable as being the first of a series pleasant to chronicle. The institution was never in a higher condition of prosperity and usefulness, and when, in 1865, the trustees were perplexed by the good news that Smith Hall was insufficient for the number of pupils from out of town, Hon. George L. Davis of North Andover, who had for some time been one of their number, happily solved the difficulty by buying what was known as the Farwell estate, which joined the academy grounds on the north-east corner, and presenting it to the school. It was gratefully named Davis hall, and for many years has been occupied by all pupils studying French, that language being the one ordinarily spoken in the house. Previously Mr. Davis had added two acres of land in the rear of Smith Hall, and in the autumn of 1865[Pg 145] assisted in the purchase of the house belonging to Rev. J. W. Turner, on the southern boundary line of the grounds. That house, known first as South Hall, is now German Hall, German being spoken there in daily life, as French is at Davis Hall. To the fact that pupils studying these languages are thus kept out of the way of English speech for so large a portion of school hours is ascribed their unusual success in the difficult accomplishment of easy and correct conversation in a foreign tongue. The amount of Mr. Davis' benefactions up to 1879 was more than $7,000.

At the annual meeting in 1870, the trustees expressed special obligations to Mr. Nathaniel Swift, who had filled the office of treasurer since 1852, and congratulated him upon the wonderful transformation which he had wrought in the grounds. Instead of poor stony pasture land were broad smooth lawns, gravelled walks, flower borders, well-trimmed hedges, and rustic seats in charming spots, which told not only of the exquisite taste which ever guided his hand, but of his considerate thoughtfulness wherever the pleasure or comfort of the pupils was concerned. During the autumn of 1877, in order to secure the whole of the beautiful grove adjacent to their property, the trustees bought fourteen acres, thus making their real estate something more than twenty-two acres.

In the quarter of a century since Miss McKeen came to Abbot Academy, besides these imperatively needed houses, and these greatly prized acres, many valuable collections scientific, artistic and literary have been added; but, as ever, the great want is room, that the pupils may have the benefit of their use, which is impossible in their present scattered condition. The school observed its Semi-Centennial in June, 1879, and extended a hearty welcome to nearly three thousand of its alumnæ. The position was favorable for a survey of its present situation, its past history and its future prospects. Thorough examination of the past proved it had done excellent work; its list of pupils from all parts of the country, constantly increasing, showed it had taken deep root, but its future prospects appeared to be imperilled by its environment. On every hand it was crippled by want of buildings, want of endowment, want indeed of everything necessary to the comfort of a school. It was mentioned with amazement that half its collections were packed in boxes, its books were in every room of the building, wherever a shelf could find room, its pianos in the public parlors,[Pg 146] and as for its boarding accommodations, so insufficient were they, it is a wonder to those familiar with the arrangements of the more recent girls' schools and colleges, that Abbot Academy has any boarding pupils at all. That it does, and frequently to its fullest extent, proves to the entire satisfaction of thoughtful persons the superior character of its instruction. Numerous highly valued and gratefully remembered gifts flowed in at the Semi-Centennial, but no sums sufficient to warrant the beginning of new buildings; so the teachers went on doing the best they could, spite of their great disadvantages, and their best was so good, that in 1884 the pressure became so strong, that several architects of Boston and vicinity entered into a free competition, submitting plans for the contemplated structures, and those drafted by Messrs Hartwell and Richardson, were accepted by the trustees, who appointed a building committee, consisting of Mr. Warren F. Draper, treasurer of Abbot Academy since 1876, chairman; Prof. J. W. Churchill, Andover, and Mr. James White, Boston. All these gentlemen are trustees, and in the heartiest sympathy with the high aims of the institution. The plans thus approved by the trustees were laid before the Alumnæ Association at a meeting in June, 1885, and enthusiastically approved. It was then found that they had in their treasury an accumulation of small gifts amounting to between seven and eight thousand dollars, which they had been collecting for the purpose, and the announcement that the trustees, at the first meeting held for the purpose, had subscribed $12,500, was deemed very encouraging. Since that time the trustees have increased their subscription two thousand dollars, and, through the efforts of Miss McKeen, Andover people have pledged about $10,000. In short, about $36,000 has been raised up to the present time. But new buildings will cost $100,000; perhaps, even with the most vigilant and judicious economy, $150,000. Where and how can the remainder be obtained? It occurred to many friends that it would be a pleasant and perhaps a profitable thing to have a social meeting in Boston to consider the question and inspect the plans. Mrs. Daniel Chamberlin (before marriage Miss Abbie W. Chapman), the popular and efficient acting-principal of Abbot Academy in 1853, and now president of its Alumnæ Association, kindly offered her pleasant parlors in Chester Square for the purpose. There on the 12th of January, was held a most delightful[Pg 147] gathering, where the speakers were as choice as they were felicitous, and the company as rarely homogeneous as heartily interested.

Rev. Edward G. Porter of Lexington, one of the trustees, to whose indefatigable efforts the occasion owed a large portion of its success, called the meeting to order, and in the absence of Hon. Rufus S. Frost, who had been expected to preside, invited Professor Churchill to the chair. Professor Churchill whose gift of graceful speech never fails, introduced with a few delightful words Prof. E. A. Park, who has been president of the board of trustees more than twenty-five years. Professor Park responded: "The roof of the first edifice for Abbot Academy was laid the 28th of October, 1828. One week after that day I became a member of Andover Theological Seminary. I heard at once of the new and beautiful building; I think I was the first college graduate who walked on the floor of the present Academy Hall. It was said to be the best school edifice in Essex County or even the state of Massachusetts. Thus it began its existence with an aspiration in fine architecture. The style of this edifice is not so classical now as it was fifty-six years ago. When the academy received its new telescope it was too poor to provide it a suitable place. Therefore a dome was erected on the roof, which disturbed the symmetry of the Grecian architecture. The telescope does good service under the dome; but it is a sign of the indigence of the academy. When I reflect on the progress made by other institutions, I am astonished at the march of events. Twenty years after the founding of Abbot Academy, the little settlement at Chicago had not been heard of at Andover. When Rev. Dr. Joel Hawes received his first request to provide a missionary for that settlement, he asked a friend of mine, 'Where is Kick-a-go?' That little settlement of 'Kickago' has now received a fund of more than three million dollars for a city library. When our academy was founded, no man in Andover suspected that California would become one of our United States; but California has recently received twelve million dollars for the founding of a University. I was acquainted with the founder of Smith College in Northampton, and also with the founder of Abbot Academy. In some particulars the two ladies had a marked resemblance to each other. The founder of Smith College gave to it four hundred thousand dollars; the founder of Abbot Academy gave to it[Pg 148] $10,109.04. Those four cents have played a conspicuous rôle in the history of the academy. They have been a sign of its indigence from its earliest to the present day."

"Abbot Academy has real estate valued at forty thousand dollars. Its apparatus, library, furniture, etc., are valued at ten thousand dollars. Its productive and available funds are valued at $33,636. This valuation was made two years ago; and it is now safe to say that the whole property of the institution, including real and personal estate, amounts to no more than ninety thousand dollars. The number of books in its library is 2,630. The number of its books relating to the fine arts is 233. The number of its art illustrations is 3,284. Still it has no convenient rooms for its books, pictures, casts. They are highly valuable, but are scattered in different and obscure places. It has a good cabinet of specimens illustrating conchology. Where is the cabinet? A large part of it I have never seen. It is kept in the boxes in which it was sent to the academy. Where is the scientific apparatus? Where is it?

"The rooms for the pupils are not large enough. Two students live by day and by night in one small chamber. The passages between the rooms are too narrow. The recitation rooms are too small and not well ventilated. The teachers have no adequate support, and could readily obtain much larger salaries for far less work in other institutions. For such reasons the academy asks for an enlarged endowment. It needs $150,000 for its new buildings. Thus far it has received promise of only $36,000. If it receive a generous increase of funds it will flourish; if it does not, it will not flourish as it should. Other institutions will attract its scholars. We cannot expect that future instructors will have a spirit of self-denial equal to that of its present and past instructors.

"After his 7th of March speech, Daniel Webster said to the Bostonians, 'You have conquered your climate, you have now nothing to do but to conquer your prejudices.' He meant that New Englanders had overcome the laws of nature, which had provided them with little except ice and granite; and nothing was left for them to conquer except their prejudices against the system of slavery. Now the teachers of Abbot Academy have conquered themselves, and there is nothing left for them to subdue except the laws of nature. They cannot subdue these laws. They cannot resist the attractions which other institutions have received[Pg 149] from large funds, commodious dormitories, and suitable lecture-rooms and halls. The two Misses McKeen have devoted a high degree of skill and energy to the upbuilding of this institution; but they have had a superior ancestry. They inherited strength and fortitude. They descended from the sturdy men and women who settled Londonderry, New Hampshire.

"James McKeen of Londonderry was connected by marriage with James McGregor, the first minister of that town, who was a remarkable man. He was asked to leave his New Hampshire parish and go to the First Presbyterian Church in New York city. He declined. Londonderry was a more promising field for usefulness than New York. Londonderry has since succumbed. By the aid of the Hudson River and the Atlantic Ocean, New York has gone ahead.

"A traveller walking through Fifth Avenue and then through the roads of Londonderry can detect the superiority of New York with the naked eye. Unless Abbot Academy receive a larger and richer endowment than it now has, it will be to other institutions what the New Hampshire township is to the commercial emporium of our land.

"Why not allow our academy to decline? What special reasons are there for giving a new impulse to it? We ask for our new buildings because our academy is the oldest incorporated institution in the land for the higher culture of young ladies exclusively. Its age gives it a title to support. The antiquity of a school is a rich treasure to it. Scores of matrons, teachers, missionaries, have been trained in this school, and have performed signal services in our Western settlements, in Constantinople, in Japan, and in other distant parts of the world. The affections of these pupils are still entwined around this ancient academy. Again, we need our new buildings as monuments to the past services of teachers who have adorned and honored the school. Their example of faithful work and of exemplary self-denial ought to receive a visible and fitting memorial.

"Still another reason is that the endowment for which we ask will encourage future instructors to imitate the example of their predecessors. I have been conversant with many schools, I have not known one in which the principles of mental and moral philosophy, of the English and the Latin language, and of the fine arts have been more thoroughly and faithfully studied than in Abbot[Pg 150] Academy. We do not expect there will ever be a theatre or an opera in the neighborhood of our academy; but we do expect that if we can obtain the pecuniary aid which we need, our school will be the resort of ladies who will devote themselves with zeal and care to the study of science, and more than all to the study of the word of God."

Professor Churchill then spoke in a very forcible and interesting manner of the aims of Abbot Academy, its wish to emphasize the home as well as the school. In a second article upon the institution it is hoped his remarks will be given in detail in connection with a more extended consideration of the aim to which he referred. Mr. Hartwell, for Messrs. Hartwell and Richardson, then explained the principal points of their plans, drawings of which were hung upon the walls. He concluded by expressing the heartiest interest in the academy and a most earnest wish for the success of the good plans in its behalf. Mr. Porter read a letter from Dr. Cyrus Hamlin, a portion of which follows:—

Abbot Academy has no superior. Its graduates go forth fitted for life's true work. The education they have received has been admirably adapted to form both mind and heart. It has had the social, intellectual and spiritual elements in due proportion.... I have sent six daughters to Abbot Academy and do not fear to compare the result as seen in their training, with the results attained in any other institution of our land, provided the persons selected are of equal natural gifts. The missionary work of Abbot Academy has been wide in extent and noble in character, both at home and abroad; and should be understood by friends of missions. It cannot be spared; its work, its history, its example, make it one of our choicest schools for the education of women, and I pray God it may be abundantly, richly endowed.

Mr. Edwin Reed of Cambridge, who married an Abbot Academy graduate, after felicitous compliments to the school, made a graceful, sparkling speech, from which we quote,—"The wise, judicious, painstaking administration of affairs there goes always to the roots of character, and gives us:—

One uniform spirit of devotion to the highest good of all presides there, and impresses itself on every pupil. Indeed, I am not sure, if I had my way and could educate but one of the sexes, that I[Pg 151] would not take the girls, and give them the colleges of the land, in preference to the present occupants. This would be hard on the boys, but, if I should 'turn the rascals out' and put their sisters in, it would be for this reason, great men always have great mothers. No great man ever lived who did not derive the native strength of his character directly from the mother who bore him. Mothers impress their qualities on their sons, and to get a generation of great men at the earliest possible moment, I would adopt the order of nature and secure first a generation of great mothers."

Dr. McKenzie spoke affectionately of the academy and its toilsome growth, saying that almost every object in the school had its history. He referred to the great force of the demands made by schools and colleges, and said that it was a sign of health and vigor when a school asked for better accommodations, because it had wider opportunities for usefulness. Mr. Porter proposed a committee to attend to the matter in this section, as follows, Rufus S. Frost, James White, Edwin Reed, C. F. P. Bancroft, Mrs. Daniel Chamberlin, Miss Annie Means, Miss Caroline A. Holmes, Miss Josephine Wilcox and Mrs. Laura A. W. Fowler. The committee was subsequently enlarged by adding the names of Rev. Edward G. Porter and Miss Mary E. Fowle. After the business the meeting adjourned to the dining-room, where Mrs. Chamberlin had thoughtfully and kindly provided a delicious entertainment, which fitly ended the delightful afternoon.

The Rev. Phillips Brooks acknowledged his kinship to the founder of Abbot, and in substance said: "No institution so takes on personality as a school. I see the various colleges almost as if they had features, and we may have some such feeling regarding Abbot Academy. Then there is so much in the quality of an old institution, if it keeps abreast of the times. The period of the founding of Abbot was an interesting one. It was a time when old ideas were being left behind and a new thought was just taking the place of the old. Great processes, which have not yet begun to fulfil themselves, had just begun to appear. No one can think of the academy without feeling grateful for that religious character which it is easier for an old school to keep than for a new one to acquire. Then, too, there is an advantage in its location, for there is much economy and much value in the educational atmosphere of a town like Andover."

The plan provides for four buildings; the main or central one,[Pg 152] where the family life will be carried on, connected by corridors with the smaller French and German Halls, and containing, not only parlors, school offices, dining-rooms, and suites for teachers and pupils; but a beautiful library, a spacious reading-room, and upon its third floor, commodious music-rooms shut off from each other and the corridors by walls and doors of such construction that sound cannot pass through. French and German Halls furnish each a family sitting-room cheery with open fires and charming with artistic finish; suites for pupils and teachers, but neither kitchen nor dining accommodations, as all meals are to be taken in the main building. To this purpose the western front of the lower or basement story has been devoted. The young ladies coming from the language houses pass by separate staircases to their own dining-room on the north and south side of the central one, where the English-speaking pupils sit. These side dining-rooms can be shut off or thrown into the central apartment at will, and in this way freedom for the foreign language is secured and the whole number of pupils centralized; a more economical arrangement than the present one of three separate kitchens. Indeed, apart from economy, and outside the great advantage this plan affords to the students of French and German, the Faculty of Abbot Academy emphatically prefer the division of the school into distinct families; the cottage system insuring in their opinion much greater certainty of health, and opportunities for the direct personal influence important in the development of character. The fourth building is the academy, where prayers and recitations will be conducted, and where public gatherings will be suitably accommodated. The three living-houses are arranged for one hundred and twenty-five pupils only, two pupils occupy single beds in one bedroom and sharing a parlor. The architecture is after the eleventh century Romanesque; the material brick, with freestone trimmings, and the effect of all simple, suitable, dignified.

FOOTNOTES:

[C] Abbot Academy, then called Abbot Female Academy, was incorporated Feb. 26, 1829; Moravian Brothers established schools for girls, Bethlehem, Pa., 1749; Rev. Joseph Emerson opened seminaries for girls in Byfield, Saugus, and Wethersfield, 1815; charter obtained for Adams Academy, Derry, N. H., 1823; Miss Lyon's seminary, Ipswich, 1828; Bradford Academy limited its work to girls, 1836; Mount Holyoke, 1835; Vassar College, Smith College, and Wellesley College later, but dates are uncertain, as confusion results from lack of definiteness as to whether they represent the year of founding, opening, or incorporation.

[D] Miss Sarah Abbot, Founder of Abbot Academy, Andover, was born in Andover, Oct. 3. 1762; married Nehemiah Abbot, first Steward of Andover Theological Seminary, often called Divinity College; died in 1848, in the house on Andover Hill, occupied for many years by the family of Dr. Samuel C. Jackson, and now the residence of Prof. E. J. Hincks; buried in the cemetery of the South Church, Andover.

THE ORIGINAL NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE.

BY REV. EDGAR BUCKINGHAM.

The magazine which first bore this title was established in the year 1831, by Joseph T. and Edwin Buckingham. There were not at that time many monthly periodicals in the country; it was long before the days of the Atlantic and Putnam's. The New-England originated in the desire of my brother Edwin, who, at that date, was just twenty-one years of age, to rise to a higher position than that of editor of a daily paper. He had been for some years connected with my father, first, as assistant editor of the New England Galaxy, and then of the Boston Courier. People estimate very differently now the position of the editor of one of our city dailies; but at that time, though such an editor had an influence and a very great one, he could not be said to rule so far in political and social life, and to be so nearly supreme, as he has since become through the talents and labors of the Bennetts, of Greeley, of Raymond, of Thurlow Weed, and of Samuel Bowles. It is true, Mr. Bryant, of the Evening Post, was already at his station, so was Joseph E. Chandler, of Philadelphia; and Gales and Seaton, of the National Intelligencer; and Nathan Hale also, of the Boston Advertiser, exerted an important influence, wherever that paper was read. But an editor now addresses every day ten thousand or a hundred thousand readers, where fifty years ago the issue of his paper was limited to little more than a thousand copies. My brother Edwin felt, apparently, that to be editor of a monthly magazine would bring him into closer connection and intimacy with the leading men of literary eminence throughout the country, and so the magazine was originated by him and by my father on his account.

Edwin was an accomplished writer at that early day. He had not learned the art at school; for he left school altogether when he was fourteen years of age. At that early period of life, he entered into the printing-office of the New England Galaxy, learning to set type, and, shortly, came to have charge of the making up of the paper. My father often said that the best school education one could get was at the compositor's stand.[Pg 154] Edwin early began to write for the paper, and I remember, now, with what admiration an article of his on "Massachusetts" was read more than sixty years ago, and while he was yet a boy. The Galaxy was sold in 1827; and my father and brother gave themselves up more particularly to the editorship of the Courier. Before Edwin was twenty-one, he spent some winters in Washington, as special correspondent of the newspaper; and while there attracted no little attention from the great men of the nation. He was a young man of active habits, and during the trial of the Whites, at Salem, for the murder of Joseph White, in 1830, at which Mr. Webster made one of his most powerful efforts as a lawyer and advocate, Edwin reported the proceedings. He drove down to Salem in the morning, and back at night with the proceeds of his daily labor, over the cold and foggy marshes of Lynn. Then he took a cold, from the effects of which he never recovered. He used the severest remedies, and, in October, 1832, he sailed for Smyrna; after spending some months there in a home where friendship and kindness did all that nature and skill could accomplish, and finding all means ineffectual, he started for home to die; but a few days before reaching his native land he breathed his last. His remains were committed to the deep in May, 1833. A cenotaph at Mt. Auburn commemorates his birth and death. It bears the inscription of being placed there by "Boston Mechanics." Edwin believed in the mechanic arts, and in what are called laboring men. He had himself been of them. It was fitting also his monument should be reared at Mt. Auburn; it was one of the first stones erected there. He had been himself greatly instrumental in carrying to success the project of turning "Sweet" Auburn, as it had been called, into a cemetery where the ashes of the loved and illustrious might be gathered for a final resting-place.

The Magazine started well, and may be said to have been wholly successful, compared with other literary undertakings of the day, and with the just expectations of the proprietors. My father and brother had capable, willing, illustrious helpers. The first article of the first number was by Dr. Frothingham, of Boston, than whom no more elegant scholar, no finer writer was to be found in New England; Hon. Edward Everett contributed a playful article of some length to the same number. Hon. George S. Hillard, long known also in Boston for his fine[Pg 155] scholarship, contributed a long review of the "Chanting Cherubs," a greatly admired piece of sculpture by Horatio Greenough then on exhibition in Boston. Hon. William Austin of Charlestown contributed a most ingenious and interesting story, not surpassed by fiction of the present day. Among the contributors to the first number were also Dr. Samuel G. Howe, and Hon. Timothy Walker of Cincinnati; Rev. Leonard Withington of Newbury, Mass., a gentleman who lived long and quietly in that secluded village, but wielded a vigorous pen, and had a very thoughtful mind; his contribution was of a very kindly and wise article on the religious character of Lord Byron,—an article well worth republication as an introduction to any complete collection of the works of that great poet. One would say such a combination of the literary strength of Massachusetts was a good setting off for a new magazine.

The gentlemen above named, all or most of them, continued their contributions for other months and years. In addition to these whose names I have given, there were in succeeding numbers articles from Richard Hildreth, the historian, Park Benjamin, the poet, John G. Whittier, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Professor Longfellow, Miss Hannah F. Gould, Dr. W. B. O. Peabody, of Springfield, Dr. Andrew P. Peabody, long known and honored and loved in his position in Cambridge as guardian and friend of the young men in college. But the list would be too long to enumerate all the fine scholars and eminent writers who gathered to make up the New England Magazine. My father and brother were very successful in securing the labors especially of young men,—my brother, because he was young himself,—my father, because always he was quick to discern rising merit, and ready and earnest to help forward young men to success and eminence. The list above given is that mostly of men who at that time were still in early youth.

The fifth volume of the Magazine, in July, 1833, records my brother's death and the solitude of the senior editor. The number is prefaced by a picture of my brother, which shows him as a handsome young man, at the age of twenty-two; but the lithograph cannot give his fair complexion, the clearness of his large blue eyes. It was accompanied by an elegiac poem, by Charles Sprague, well known then, and not forgotten since, as one of our most finished poets, and one of our most pathetic[Pg 156] writers. The work that then devolved upon my father, not only as editor of a daily paper, but as a man of public activity and usefulness, member as he was for many years of the Legislature, chairman of committees, to whose reports he devoted an immensity of labor, was sufficient to require him to give up the Magazine. Besides its more strictly literary articles, contributed mostly by others, though my father wrote some of the literary articles himself, the Magazine presented every month a review of the public proceedings of Congress and of many of the State governments, the most of which, I think, were prepared by himself, and usually a long series of obituary notices. These last were of citizens of different parts of the country, and came undoubtedly from different hands. But of people of distinction, citizens of Boston, who died from 1831 to 1835, my father's pen probably produced almost all of the eulogies. The warmth of his friendship, his readiness to see all good, to forgive all imperfections, his skill as a writer, made such articles from his pen exceedingly interesting and admirable.

In December, 1834, my father wrote his valedictory, and on the first of January, 1835, announced that the proprietorship had passed into the hands of Dr. Samuel G. Howe and John O. Sargent, Esq. In looking over the papers of the seven volumes, which filled out my father's editorship, very many articles are found of the highest merit,—as the names of the contributors given above would assure the reader; and if some of inferior worth are at times mingled with them, they probably had some interest at the time they were written; and the Magazine on the whole would be pronounced, I suppose, worthy of general commendation.

It is the Nemesis of pedantry to be always wrong. Your true prig of a pedant goes immensely out of his way to be vastly more correct than other people, and succeeds in the end in being vastly more ungrammatical, or vastly more illogical, or both at once.—Cornhill Magazine.[Pg 157]

IRISH HOME RULE AGITATION:

ITS HISTORY AND ISSUES.

BY REV. H. HEWITT.

By far the most thorny problem of British statesmanship at the present moment is the persistent and pressing demand made by the Irish people through the Irish press and their representatives in Parliament for the repeal of the Union and the recognition of their right to national self-government. Incessantly, earnestly, eloquently, the question has been agitated for the past dozen years or so. Adroitly and skilfully it has been manipulated by some of the most brilliant, sagacious, and resolute agitators Ireland has ever known. Slowly but steadily it has grown, passing from stage to stage with ever-brightening prospect of ultimate success, until it has now become the aspiration, we might almost say, the one, quenchless, all-absorbing passion of the Irish people. The consequence is that the first calm moment after a most exciting and vigorous electoral contest, during which "the fire out of the bramble" has devoured many "cedars of Lebanon," the two great parties in the State find themselves face to face with a difficulty which, even for the most zealous aspirant to place and power, robs the honors and emoluments of office of more than half their charm. Neither Liberal nor Conservative will care to incur the displeasure of the Queen and the implacable wrath of the English aristocracy—both Whig and Tory—by consenting to the political divorcement of Ireland, and to what would be regarded as the disruption of the empire. For it is felt, not without good reason, that the indirect and ultimate consequences of the severance would be far more serious than any direct and immediate effects. The efforts of popular statesmen, in recent times, have been mainly directed toward the maintenance of the prestige of the Crown. This was the sole motive of Lord Beaconsfield's "spirited foreign policy." It was the one consideration that made the "Imperial Titles Bill," and the imperial measures of which it proved to be the too significant prelude, so immensely popular in London. So sure was he of the strength and predominance of this patriotic sentiment in England that he made his appeal almost exclusively[Pg 158] to it, in asking in 1880 for a fresh lease of power. The occasion was critical, he said. "The peace of Europe, and the ascendency of England in the councils of Europe" depended upon the verdict the country was now called upon to give. The policy of the party opposed to his own was declared to be a "policy of decomposition." But the concession of self-government in the form demanded by the Irish Parliamentary party, whatever might be the political necessity pleaded in justification of it, would be certain to be interpreted in England, in the colonies and dependencies of the British empire, and by all foreign States, as a sure omen of the decline of the British Crown. To us it is utterly inconceivable that the Queen, who is profoundly conscious of her power, keenly sensitive as to her royal dignities, rights, and prerogatives, and proud, as she has reason to be, of her long and prosperous reign, should ever consent to a policy of dismemberment, by whatever political party proposed. The Conservatives cannot afford to purchase the influence and assistance of the Irish vote at the price Mr. Parnell has fixed and is every way likely to insist on. They would have to belie the best traditions of the party, and discredit the cardinal principles of their once powerful and still deeply revered chief—the late Lord Beaconsfield—to whom Home Rule meant "veiled rebellion," and presented a danger "scarcely less disastrous than pestilence and famine." The Liberals are equally unlikely to risk the integrity and unity of the party by the concession of a claim which even an advanced Radical like Mr. Chamberlain has condemned as unwarrantable, unwise, and impossible to be granted. Still this and nothing less than this is the hope and expectation of the great majority of the Irish people. This and nothing less will be the demand of the Irish leaders as soon as Parliament assembles at the beginning of the ensuing year.

In order to a clear and correct understanding of the position of Irish affairs at the present juncture, and of the nature and ground of the Home Rule demand, it will be necessary briefly to sketch the history of the agitation's genesis and growth. It is all the more necessary to do this as there are few political or social problems, even in England itself, more grievously misunderstood and wantonly misstated. It is truly surprising how much confusion, ignorance, and irrational antipathy may be nursed and maintained by an excited state of public feeling and a partisan and prejudiced press. Mr. Justin McCarthy complains with some[Pg 159] bitterness that "people found their deepest sympathies stirred by the sufferings of cattle and horses in Ireland, who never were known to feel one throb of compunction over the fashionable sin of torturing pigeons at Hurlingham." And the words he quotes from a letter addressed to the Times of Dec. 3, 1880, by the illustrious General Gordon, after a visit to the much afflicted country, show with equal clearness the sad condition of affairs in Ireland, and the apparent incapability of the English public to realize it. "I have been lately over the south-west of Ireland," he wrote, "in the hope of discovering how some settlement could be made of the Irish question, which, like a fretting cancer, eats away our vitals as a nation." After the bold and, as some would think, unstatesmanlike proposal, "that the government should, at a cost of eighty millions, convert the greater part of the south-west of Ireland into Crown lands, in which landlords should have no power of control," Gordon concluded, "I must say, from all accounts and my own observations, that the state of our fellow-countrymen in the parts I have named is worse than that of any people in the world, let alone Europe. I believe that these people are made as we are, that they are patient beyond belief, loyal, but at the same time broken-spirited and desperate, living on the verge of starvation, in places where we would not keep our cattle.... Our comic prints do an infinity of harm by their caricatures. Firstly, the caricatures are not true, for the crime in Ireland is not greater than that in England; secondly, they exasperate the people on both sides of the Channel, and they do no good. It is ill to laugh and scoff at a question which affects our existence."

To Gordon's appeal on behalf of Ireland no one was more ready to listen with sympathy than the Prime Minister himself. The claims and grievances of the people whose magnanimous endurance, self-restraint, and patience had so excited Gordon's admiration and called forth his warmest words of praise, the great Liberal statesman had never been slow to recognize. Ireland has not always been willing to be grateful to him; but he has always striven to be more than just to her, and has more than once incurred the odium and reproach of the aristocracy of England, and even the disaffection of many of his followers, in his truly heroic "attempts to mitigate the miseries of the Irish people." When he surprised the country by his sudden and unexpected dissolution of Parliament in 1874, he had certainly done something[Pg 160] to earn the gratitude and confidence of Ireland. He had disestablished the Irish Protestant Church. He had passed a Land Act, which at the time (1870) was regarded as a valuable contribution to the settlement of the land problem, aiming, as it did, first, to give the tenant some security of tenure where, as in the majority of cases, he had been practically unable to plead any rights as against the landlord; second, to encourage the making of needful improvements throughout the country; and, thirdly, to promote the establishment of a peasant proprietorship. In the attempt to confer a third great boon on the discontented nation in the shape of the Irish University Education Bill, he and his administration went to pieces on the immovable rock of Protestant prejudice.

Of course the provisions of the Land Act, while they occasioned some fretting and exasperation among the land-owners, who are in the habit of regarding every effort of legislation for the benefit of their tenants with a fixed sense of calamity, failed entirely to satisfy the more aggressive and eager of the Irish Parliamentary party. The Land Act had not taken its place upon the statute book before a meeting of representative Irishmen was called in Dublin with the view of framing some scheme of Home Government, and organizing measures for its advocacy in Parliament, and in the towns and cities of Ireland. In the course of discussion, one of the speakers used the words "Home Rule," and they were formally and forthwith adopted as the war-cry of the Nationalist party.

For the first five years the new organization made little headway. Its leader, Mr. Isaac Butt, was an able man—a lawyer of some distinction and a Protestant—but he was not a man to set the Thames on fire; he was not the man to control the fierce and fiery young politicians that had begun to flock to the standard of the National cause. With unromantic dutifulness to his place and his party, he annually brought his motion for Home Rule before the notice of the House, and was supported by some fifty or sixty members and a few sympathetic Radicals, but the Conservative government and its solid majority were of one mind on the matter. Mr. Butt died in 1879, and Mr. Shaw succeeded to the leadership, but on the organization of the Land League in the same year, he was quietly shunted in favor of Mr. Parnell, who, as the Corypheus of the party, has so far displayed great skill, coolness,[Pg 161] and self-command, and has been rewarded in Ireland by regal ovations, and by the suggestive title of the "uncrowned king."

Mr. Charles Stewart Parnell, who was declared by one of the speakers at a recent meeting of Irish citizens held in Faneuil Hall, and more recently by Mr. J. B. O'Reilly in the North American Review, to be of American birth, is really a man of English descent. One of his ancestors was the poet Parnell. Another, Sir Henry Parnell, afterwards created Lord Congleton, was the associate of Lord Grey and Lord Melbourne in the reform movement of 1829-32. He was a graduate of Cambridge University, and a Protestant in religion. By birth, by training, and by creed, he seemed to be of all persons the most unsuited to the task in which he has been so eminently successful. "In 1871, after some years of travel in America, among other places, he settled down on his estate at Avondale, in Wicklow, within whose boundaries is to be found Moore's Vale of Avoca, with its meeting waters." Like many who in spite of early failures have afterwards risen to distinction, Mr. Parnell's first public appearance was a great disappointment to himself and his friends. Before the electors of Dublin he completely broke down in his first attempt at public speaking, and the great city which has since showered upon him the highest honors it can give, rejected him. In 1875, he entered the House of Commons for the first time as member for Meath. For the first few years of his Parliamentary life he was mainly distinguished for the skill and unwearied persistency of his tactics as an obstructionist, though he also succeeded in carrying useful amendments to such measures as the Factories and Workshops Bill and the Bill for the Abolition of Flogging in the Army and Navy.

The Land League organization gave him just the kind of political machinery he wanted, though the credit of its creation belongs more to Michael Davitt and John Dillon than to him. It soon became immensely popular in Ireland, and, for a time, its orders and decrees superseded the established law of the land, with the seeming result of replacing social order and tranquillity by a condition of widespread anarchy, confusion, and lawlessness. It is only fair to say, however, that the Land League meetings did not create but only revealed the misery, distress, and discontent of the Irish rural populace. The country had recently suffered[Pg 162] from a severe visitation of famine. Evictions for non-payment of rent had been steadily increasing for several years past. In 1877 the number stood at 463; in 1878 it swelled to nearly 1,000; at the end of 1880 it had actually reached 2,110. A bill was introduced by one of the Irish members with a view to mitigating the rigors of the law as regarded the impoverished tenantry. The government refused to adopt the measure, but sought to meet the case by framing a remedial scheme of their own which was introduced under the name of the Compensation for Disturbance Bill. This bill, which was vigorously assailed from opposite quarters in the Commons, was unceremoniously rejected by the Lords, who denounced it as a flagrant encroachment on the rights of property. It must ever be regretted in the interests of mere humanity that Mr. Gladstone's government did not compel the recalcitrant peers to abandon their attitude of defiance in regard to that much-needed piece of ameliorative legislation. The House of Lords takes nothing so ill as open and avowed conflict with a powerful and popular ministry. In such a case the issue is never doubtful. And if the ministry had shown a determination to nail their colors to the mast, the Lords would have lost no time in unfurling a flag of truce. As it was, their practical acquiescence in the rejection of the bill consummated the rupture between the Irish party and themselves. The speeches of the chiefs of the Land League grew fierce, and at times violent, in their denunciation of Her Majesty's ministers. Mr. W. E. Forster, especially, the Chief Secretary for Ireland, a man of invincible resolution and ineradicable prejudices, and yet withal a man of much rugged kindliness of nature, became the victim of incessant interrogation and attack in Parliament, and the object of an unrelenting and quenchless hate in Ireland.

At one time the tone and temper of leading agitators were all that could be desired. "Abstain," said Mr. Davitt, "from all acts of violence, repel every incentive to outrage. Glorious indeed will be our victory, and high in the estimation of mankind will our grand old fatherland stand, if we can so curb our passions and control our actions in this struggle for free land, as to march to success through privation and danger without resorting to the wild justice of revenge, or being guilty of anything which could sully the character of a brave and Christian people." Later on Mr. Davitt's feelings were less calm and his language less measured,[Pg 163] mild and sober; as when, for instance, he pictured to his excited auditors "the wolf-dog of Irish vengeance leaping across the Atlantic to redress and avenge the wrongs of Ireland." Mr. John Dillon went further still, and ventured to intimate in a speech delivered at Kildare the advisability of military drill and general preparation for a resort to arms should the necessity arise.

Among the various means, legitimate and otherwise, adopted by the League for the accomplishment of its ends, was that form of social ostracism now familiarly known as "boycotting." Captain Boycott was an Englishman, employed as agent of Lord Earne, and occupied a farm at Ballinrobe, near Lough Mask. Emboldened by the powerful protection of the League, Lord Earne's tenants had refused to pay the stipulated rents, and Boycott served notices of eviction upon them. Whereupon not only the tenants on the estate but the population for miles on every side of him resolved not to have anything to do with him in any shape, whether of barter, business, or intercourse, nor was any one else permitted to relieve his isolation, or do him or his family any service, or supply him with any necessity of life. The Orangemen of Ulster organized and went armed to his relief, and under the protection of a small band of soldiers and police, his harvests were gathered in, and his produce conveyed to the nearest available market. Boycott went to England for a short time, and on his return to Lough Mask at once extricated himself from his painful and perilous position by giving up his agency. His unexpected surrender, strange to tell, brought about a complete revulsion of feeling among the dwellers of that wild and lovely district. He now became as popular as he had before been obnoxious. In the course of a speech delivered at a mass meeting of from fifteen to twenty thousand men at Waterford, in September, 1883, Michael Davitt said, "It was better for all concerned that the truth should be plainly and bluntly told, in order that English quack statesmen might be saved the trouble of proposing half measures to satisfy the Irish people.... Let the landlords of Ireland resign their unpopular positions, follow the example of Captain Boycott, and nobody would molest them, but if they did not, they would be grievously surprised by and by, for they would make the discovery which Captain Boycott had made, that the English government would find that it did not pay from an Imperial point of view to[Pg 164] support a worse than useless class against the Irish nation. The 'lifeboat for the landlords,' as Lord Derby had once called the Land Act (1881), rescued them from the rocks upon which they were hurled by the waves of the Land League, but they had not reached the shores of safety yet. There were other breakers ahead that would do more damage to their rotten system than the storm of the Land League. When the laborers and the artisans of Ireland or of England and Scotland were enfranchised, was it to be supposed that the educated millions of industry would allow the national patrimony—the land—to be any longer the property of a useless class? In the language of scripture, the landlords would be asked to give an account of their stewardship, for they could be no longer stewards."

While, however, the Land Leaguers were jubilant at the success of their movement, the government were preparing to take strenuous measures for its suppression. Its leaders, Mr. Parnell, Mr. Dillon, Mr. T. D. Sullivan, Mr. Sexton, along with the Treasurer, Mr. Egan, and the Secretary, Mr. Brennan, and several others, were prosecuted by the Crown on the charge of inciting to outrage. The prosecution, however, broke down, as everybody expected it would, through disagreement of the jury.

When Parliament assembled in January, 1881, the policy announced for Ireland was, as usual, one of concession and coercion. There was to be a Land Act, and there was to be a Bill which would give the Lord-lieutenant "power by warrant to arrest any person reasonably suspected of treason, treasonable felony, or treasonable practices, and the commission, whether before or after the Act, of crimes of intimidation, or incitement thereto." The conflict over the latter bill, which was first introduced, made the House of Commons more like a bear-garden than a place of rational deliberation and debate. Even Mr. Bright and Mr. Gladstone became exasperated, and charged back upon their assailants with an energy and violence quite unwonted. Mr. Gladstone's speech in particular aroused the House, angered the Irish members, and proved to be the prelude to a prolonged conflict with systematic obstruction, which went on for some time, night and day, without break. Even Mr. Parnell for the moment lost all self-command, entered into an angry conflict with the Prime Minister, defied the ruling of the Speaker, and was expelled the House, as Mr. Dillon had been the evening before. Some thirty others[Pg 165] of the National party followed his example of defiance with a similar result. At the close of February the Coercion Bill was sent up to the Lords, and on the beginning of March received the Queen's assent. The end of July saw the third reading of the Land Bill in the Commons, after long and wearisome debate. The Lords amended it to death, and sent it back to the Commons—the poor and pithless shadow of its former self. Restored to life in the Lower House, it was again presented for the acceptance of the peers. Again they struck at its vitality, but the Commons said, Nulla vestigia retrorsum. A thousand popular platforms and almost the whole provincial press called upon the government to be firm; mass meetings in London and other large cities and towns clamored for the abolition of the House of Lords and the extinction of hereditary rule. Eventually the courage of the peers gave way, and the Land Bill of 1881 became law.

The closing months of the year saw the Land League chiefs in Kilmainham Prison. Mr. Gladstone on his visit to Leeds, early in October, had met with a reception more than royal from the folks of Yorkshire. For two or three days special trains from every part of that densely populated county poured into the great emporium of the cloth-trade thousands of enthusiastic admirers eager to catch a near glimpse of the foremost statesman of the age as he rode from point to point through the barricaded streets. In one of the speeches made during the visit, he had strongly reprobated the policy and proceedings of Mr. Parnell. At a meeting in Wexford, a few days after, Mr. Parnell replied with some bitterness. A few days more brought the exciting news of the arrests by the Irish Executive. The situation was desperate. The imprisoned leaders at once issued a manifesto calling upon the tenantry of Ireland to withhold payment of rents. This was a direct violation of the law, as well as a great political blunder, and the government at once seized the occasion as a fitting opportunity for suppressing the Land League and the advanced Nationalist press. In the session of 1882 there appeared a manifest indisposition on the part of a majority of the cabinet to give further sanction to the policy of Mr. Forster in Ireland. The imprisoned Home Rulers were released from Kilmainham on conditions which he thought perilously lenient, and he resigned, as also did Earl Cowper. The entry of the new Lord-lieutenant, Earl Spencer, on the 6th of May, into the Irish capital, promised[Pg 166] well; but the assassin had bargained with the fates for the day, and before the sun had ceased to shed his bright beams on the green grass and budding trees of Phœnix Park, a scion of the noble house of Devonshire and his companion in office had been immolated on the altar of Irish vengeance before the eyes of the new viceroy as he stood in the window of the viceregal lodge. The civilized world was horror-struck. Ireland expressed her profound regret at a transaction which was thought to have been planned and executed by some designing foe. Messrs. Parnell, Dillon, and Davitt hastily met to disclaim any sympathy with the crime and to denounce the criminals. The rest of the story is now familiar and needs not be retold. The government was known to have been contemplating a milder régime for Ireland; but the disastrous incident of the 6th of May drove them back upon their former policy. A Crimes Bill was passed, followed by a measure of alleviation, known as the Arrears Bill, with the view of keeping the scales of justice even. In the middle of August the exhibition of Irish Art and Manufactures was opened in Dublin, and the unveiling of the statue of O'Connell, in Sackville Street, was part of the programme of the ceremonies. On the following day, Messrs. Parnell and Dillon received the freedom of the city, and Mr. E. D. Gray, M. P., proprietor of Freeman's Journal, and High Sheriff of Dublin, was committed to Richmond gaol for contempt of Court.

Whatever necessity may be pleaded for such measures as these, they only had one result, namely, the steady advancement of the Irish National cause. Dynamite explosions in London, Glasgow, and elsewhere, troubles in Egypt and the Soudan, complications with Russia as to the Afghan frontier, left little time for attention to Irish affairs during the last years of the existence of the Liberal ministry. The Irish Nationalist leaders had convinced themselves that they owed no gratitude to the government, and could hope for nothing from the Liberal party, except "chains, imprisonment, and death," to cite the words of Mr. Gladstone's recent reply to the Irish citizens of St. Louis. They had been long biding their time and watching for their opportunity, when suddenly it presented itself. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Childers, in presenting the Annual Budget, "ran a tilt" against the "beer and spirit" interest—a sin unpardonable, for any minister in England. The Budget was defeated, and ministers[Pg 167] accepted the hint, rejoicing that, for a time at least, their troubles were ended.

Meanwhile the organization of the Irish National party had been developed to a point of perfection in anticipation of the New Reform Bill. That bill promised nothing in particular either to Gladstone or Salisbury, and it has given to neither any particular advantage over the other. In the counties the Liberal interest has advanced; in the boroughs it has markedly declined. But it promised everything to Parnell, and the fulfilment has been equal to the promise. It is no exaggeration to say that with a compact following of eighty-six he is virtually "master of the situation." But his position, on the other hand, is undoubtedly very critical. It is one which few men are likely to envy; it is one which not one in a thousand is competent to fill. Will he be equal to it? Where Grattan—sagacious, eloquent, high-minded and sincere—so signally failed, is Parnell likely to succeed? To-day his party is united, enthusiastic and strong, but when the hour for compromise and concession arrives, will the unanimity be maintained? Does Mr. Parnell himself know how much to ask, how little he ought to take, and where to draw the limit of compromise? Repeatedly Mr. Gladstone has invited Irish leaders to bring forward some definite scheme, and let the country know what they meant by "Home Rule." The cry, as a party watchword, has served admirably—seldom has a couple of words served so well—because, as expressing Irish National aspirations, it meant everything in general and nothing in particular; but the moment is at hand when it will be necessary to reduce it to a definite and feasible scheme of domestic government and policy. When that moment comes, will the prince of obstructionists in St. Stephen's prove himself equally capable as a constructive statesman on College Green? Should Mr. Gladstone find himself in a position soon after the opening of Parliament (he is not in a position now) to enter into practical negotiation with Mr. Parnell, may not the latter discover, as many an able and successful leader of men has done before him, that the next sad thing to a great defeat is a great victory? It is no secret that the demand Mr. Parnell, as the head of the Irish Nationalist party, is commissioned to make on behalf of Ireland, is a demand for national self-government almost, if not quite, amounting to national independence: it is equally well known that no British statesman would ever think, in the present[Pg 168] state of public sentiment, of countenancing such a claim. For ourselves we do not venture to forecast the issue of the conflict; for "prophecy is the most gratuitous style of error." We content ourselves with hoping that the settlement may be speedy, pacific, satisfactory, and lasting.

ELIZABETH.[E]

A ROMANCE OF COLONIAL DAYS.

By Frances C. Sparhawk, Author of "A Lazy Man's Work."

CHAPTER XXX.

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

While Archdale, full of emotions that he did not try to analyze, went on toward Grand Battery, a figure, eluding him, crept softly to one of the hospital tents, lifted the curtain a little way without being observed at first, and stood looking in, an interested spectator, not because human suffering, patience, and courage were upon exhibition here, but because here he would find some one who could give him information that he wanted.

In a few minutes Nancy Foster, passing by the door, looked up and saw him watching her. She had become too well used to unfamiliar faces and to messages at all hours and was too well protected to feel alarm.

"Hush!" he said, and beckoned to her to draw nearer. "I want to speak to that lady yonder, only for a moment. Do you think she would come here?" Harwin, for it was he, was a fine illustration of the proverb that he who asks timidly, teaches denial. If he had demanded her mistress, Nancy would have spoken to her at once. Now she scanned the intruder curiously, and judged from the hesitation of his manner that his errand was not urgent.

"No, she can't," she answered, with the decision wanting in the other. "Don't you see how she's driven? And she's got to go[Pg 169] away some time and get a little rest. You'll have to come tomorrow."

"To-morrow!" he echoed drearily. Was it for this that he had come from the fleet in the dispatch boat, and was braving all dangers? He took a resolution from despair. He fell back until Nancy had gone and was again intent upon her work.

At last he stepped forward noiselessly and began to make the half circuit of the tent toward Elizabeth. Nancy, pre-occupied, passed by him without speaking.

Elizabeth had sent for fresh water to moisten the lips of the dying soldier whom she had told Archdale about. She had just filled her cup a second time, and was on her way toward her especial charge for that night, when Edmonson asked her for water. Ashamed of her impatience at the simple request, she turned toward him, walking carefully with her eyes upon her mug, not to waste a refreshment that had to be brought from a distance. Suddenly, she found herself almost running against the intruder. She looked up.

But the apology froze upon her lips. She retreated hastily several steps, the water splashed unheeded over her trembling fingers. Edmonson, who was always watching her, called to Nancy, "Your mistress, girl! Quick!" and turned to look for her.

Nancy had gone to her patients in the next tent. But his voice helped Elizabeth to recover herself. She stood firm again, but her rigid expression did not change. With a bow, the intruder began:—

She interrupted him. "Do not speak to me, or stay here. Go!" She was like marble, only that her eyes blazed. Her hand pointed toward the door emphasizing her repulsion. Edmonson looked in amazement at this new power, to him a new attraction.

The other drew back precipitately a few steps. Then he stopped and stood looking at her, the questions that he had meant to put so boldly struggling with something not unlike fear. For Elizabeth's look and tone were terrible. She was an embodied indignation. At the moment he believed her Archdale's wife. Her hand pointing toward the door was turning him beyond the reach of all that was dearest to him. Yet for a moment it seemed as if he could not resist her, as if he were forever to be in[Pg 170] exile. But he remembered that it was Katie Archdale's world that was looking at him out of those pitiless eyes, and condemning him. He had tried so hard to get news of Katie; he had even written her father a business letter, and had ended it by a covert inquiry for news of her. Not one word but business had come in the answer. Then, learning that Elizabeth was here, he had contrived to be sent ashore, for he had been with Commodore Warren through the siege, had risked meeting Archdale, had risked everything for this chance of the news he hungered for. He had been sure that the person whom he recollected as Mistress Royal must answer whatever questions he might choose to put to her. And now must he go away starving within sight of food? In desperation he tried to summon back his assurance.

"Only let me ask you if Katie—Mistress—," he began again, taking a hasty step toward her. But again she stopped him, and this time without a word. As he tried to meet her look, gradually his eyes fell. He made no further effort to speak. Step by step he fell backward, until at a distance from her he stood still looking at her as if strength failed him, even to retreat. Elizabeth turned to Edmonson, and gave him the water left in her cup.

"Is that Harwin?" he asked hoarsely, holding it back from his lips until she had answered him.

He sipped hastily, without thirst, and handed back the cup. "Thank you," he said. As she turned away, her hand was trembling again. She swept her eyes in the opposite direction from Harwin if he should still be there. Edmonson, after a long glance at her, lay watching him. Here was his evil genius. But for Harwin what would not have been? In a flash the future that he had planned, a thousand times more blissful than his former dreams, came up before him, and, fading, left the present all the more blank. His wounded right arm moved convulsively. Harwin remained still where Elizabeth's last repulse had left him. He seemed trying to swallow his chagrin, and wrap the tatters of his dignity about him before he moved away. Perhaps he was in a dream of the woman whose very name he had not been allowed to utter. Elizabeth was beside Melvin again, and Edmonson still kept his eyes fixed upon Harwin, who was standing between him and her, and gradually and painfully he raised his right arm toward the pillow.[Pg 171]

Archdale had been met by an orderly, and had gone to the General's tent instead of to the Battery. Pepperell was alone.

"Sit down," he said. "No, let us go out into the air. Warren's dispatches have just come," he added, as the two passed out of the tent. "He expects two or three large ships in any day. I shall arrange for the general attack as soon as they come up." He smiled at Archdale's enthusiastic endorsement. "You like the smoke of battle," he said. "But the fact is, you have an eye for military situations. Of course I have quite made up my mind, but I should like to hear what you have to say." And he laughed, and took his young friend's arm with a freedom not too common in those stately times. But Pepperell was a man who, born in any age or place, would have found himself at home there, and controlling affairs, not controlled by them. He had come to Louisburg with very little experience in military matters; he had never even seen a siege. He led an army of fishermen, backwoodsmen, farmers, who had left their employments at their country's call. But these had the strong hearts and the quick wits that more than a hundred years later, when the land awoke from a dream of peace, made it rise up a nation of soldiers.

The General and Archdale went to a hillock that commanded a view of the harbor, and of the city constantly illuminated by the bursting shells, as were also the forts and the army encamped there. The luridness of war was over everything. They stood looking toward the island which, ever since the assault, had hurled its fire at them incessantly.

"Annihilate the Battery," retorted the young man. "It can be done. I think you could rake it best from the Light House."

"I believe I will try. Say nothing of this, Archdale. I shall wait a day or two for those ships. It would be awkward, wouldn't it, if the French ones came instead?" His words were light, but the other perceived his deep anxiety.

Archdale turned towards him impulsively. "Yes, you will," he cried, "you will lead us into Louisburg." He waited a moment. "Before the general attack—," he began, and hesitated.

"Oh, I'll send the rest of the hospital off to Canso," interposed[Pg 172] Pepperell, "all I can of it; our house there is full now. And the nurses,—you may be sure that they shall go. That's what you mean?"

"Mr. Royal has been impressing the same necessity upon me." And the General laughed.

"He has been with his daughter all the afternoon, I believe, but a while ago he went up to the Batteries with Col. Vaughan.

"But Elizabeth Royal is not a woman to be forgotten," Pepperell went on, "even if her father were not my old friend, and at my elbow."

"No," said the young man. Then he made a remark about military affairs, and the subject of the attack was renewed.

Suddenly came the report of a pistol different from the roar of the cannon, and so unexpected and near that it startled the listeners as if its sharpness had broken in upon the still night.

Not only sound, but intuition guided Archdale. For the element that was a sharper discord than war was to be found in the place to which his feet were rushing. If not himself for victim, who then? In another moment he threw back the door of the hospital tent in which Elizabeth was, and entered.

He was none too soon. Elizabeth, swaying beside the couch of the dying soldier, fell as Archdale reached her. He lifted her, and carried her to her own tent. She was too faint to resist, or appeal. Nancy, whom the shot had summoned, followed, holding back her grief and terror because help and silence were what her mistress needed. Archdale had stayed but a moment in the tent. But he had seen everything, Harwin unhurt rushing toward his assailant, the surgeon wrenching the pistol from the disabled hand that had missed its aim, and Edmonson's face wild with horror at the lodgment that his ball had found. He had seen all, and he comprehended all.[Pg 173]

CHAPTER XXXI.

EYES UNSEALED.

Harwin had never seen him before, but he had heard of him, and, through Katie, of his former attentions to Elizabeth, and he divined who had fired that shot meant for himself.

"Come up to me," called Edmonson, turning suddenly upon him. "I've no weapon now. My face can't turn you to stone, though I'd be a Medusa to do it. But no, I'll do better than that. Come here! come here!" he repeated excitedly.

Harwin went up to him in silence, reading as he went a lesson that wrote itself on his mind as if in letters of blood. The man before him was well-born, well-educated, and skilled in all the graces of society, accepted even in court circles; yet, as he lay there, he looked a slave, for the nobility of freedom had gone, and the mark of the brute nature was on his forehead, and in his hand that he stretched out with the longing in it to grasp his victim. The soldier on the bed next his, who had spent a good part of his thirty years of life in a fishing-smack, who knew nothing of books beyond what the common-school education had given him, and less of any life but his own venturesome calling, who beyond knowledge of the sea and its dangers had been taught only by the quickness of his own wit and the honor of his own heart,—this man, as he turned attentive eyes upon the approaching figure, Harwin involuntarily glanced at. In a flash of insight he saw in the uprightness of the sailor's face the beauty of such strength. Then he looked back at Edmonson, and there he saw his own heart in exaggeration, and he trembled.

As he went up to Edmonson, the latter raised himself from his elbow, and sitting upright leaned as near him as he could.

"Yes. Do you know that I was to have married Mistress Royal?" Harwin assented again. "Who told you?"

"Ah! yes, the little golden-haired one that thinks herself such a beauty."[Pg 174]

Edmonson turned upon him a look of malign triumph. "Ah!" he said. "You suffer, too." He was silent for an instant. "But then you think that you may yet win her," he said. "Who knows?" and he watched his listener closely, "Women are strange," he added. "She'd be flattered by your having been a scamp for her sake; she is not like the other one." He saw the light flash into Harwin's eyes and leave its bright mark along his cheek, and he smiled. "But you never shall," he said. "You might, but you never shall. Did you see what happened a minute ago?" he went on in stifled tones. "I shot her, and he carried her out,—not the yellow-haired one, oh, no, but,—Did you see his face?" he hissed with a look that made Harwin draw back at its fierceness. "But we shall be even; we will fight." He sat a moment watching Harwin, and then went on: "You will be interested in hearing that Mistress Archdale is engaged to Lord Bulchester, my friend. Your doings, too. But you shall pay for all," as Harwin stepped back in consternation. "Already, you see you've begun, but this is not the end."

"Calm yourself," said Harwin laying his hand nervously on the other's shoulder, "control yourself. This is very bad, if you're wounded."

"Control myself!" sneered Edmonson. "I never have done it in my life, and I'm not likely to do it now at the command of a coward and a sneak. Now will you fight with me?"

Edmonson seemed about to shout his answer, then, recollecting where he was, said with a passion more dreadful for its suppression, "Why? Because but for you I should be in paradise now, and by reason of you I am in——." Suddenly his speech was arrested by what seemed to him in its vividness a vision rather than a remembrance. He was again one of the gay carousers at the London inn, he was scoffing at Bulchester, and drinking that frightful pledge to meet them all again in one hundred years. Had he kept his appointment already? He would have a long while to wait. The act had seemed to him nothing, the recollection of it now made him shudder. All at once, the scene stood out to him in a lurid light, and through this he seemed to see a horror in Elizabeth Royal's face. For one moment the whirl of[Pg 175] anguish and remorse blinded him. The next, that Archdale pride, so grand in a worthy cause, so fatal when in the hands of caprice and passion, was driving him on again. But as he was about to speak, the surgeon's voice by his bed commanded him to stop, for his own sake and for others. "Not another word," it said. "One,—I must speak one," returned Edmonson. "Then I have done, I promise you. Stand back and count off one minute." He leaned close to Harwin as the doctor yielded. "I give you a chance of honorable duel," he said. "You'll take it, or there's no place on earth where my sword is too short to reach you. You've taught me how to stab in the back; I shall not forget it. But I give you your chance. You'll fight?"

"You think my sword arm will not be strong enough?" he asked. "I shouldn't advise you to depend upon that. Time—when I am able. Place—we'll settle that afterward. We can't find seconds here—too much Puritanism; they would interfere. But we can arrange it; we're honorable men," he sneered. "I may depend upon you?"

"If not—beware! Now, surgeon, only one thing more," as Harwin left the tent. "How much have I hurt Mistress Royal?"

"Then I have done with you to-night." And he threw himself back on his pillow, and lay silent and watchful until the other surgeon entered. Hours after, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

Elizabeth's injury was slight. When she recovered from the shock and the faintness, she declared that there was no wound at all—that the ball had merely grazed her, and the report of the pistol and her fatigue had done the rest.

"You always seem to be round sort of handy when we want anything," remarked Nancy to Archdale as she looked up from wiping the few drops of blood from Elizabeth's ear.

"Half an inch to the left," said Stephen hastily, as he stood watching her, "and—"[Pg 176]

"Yes," she answered, "and then—." She looked up, seeing him indistinctly in the flaring light of the candle. But in her mind there was a fair woman standing beside him. But for Elizabeth's idle words this vision would have been a reality instead of a a hopeless dream. She felt the pain of this so keenly now that it seemed to her it would have been a good thing if the ball had swerved half an inch to the left. Then her father, who had been found on his way back, came in hastily, and as Elizabeth glanced at his face she knew that life ought to be dear to her.

"Elizabeth," he said, as Archdale left them, "have you not had enough of it yet? Come home now. You have already done a great work."

"Yes, father, I will go home at once," she answered, "if you will tell me that it is the sort of thing that you have been trying all my life to teach me to do."

After Mr. Royal had left her, and Nancy was asleep, Elizabeth lay a long time thinking. She perceived now the whole truth about Edmonson. She was in a coil of struggle, and perhaps of crime. It seemed as if she herself must be guilty, as all the consequences of what she had supposed the jest of a summer evening rose before her.

In the morning the shadow of danger seemed to shrink away in the sunlight, and Elizabeth went back to her duties with a spirit firm, if not untroubled. She saw nothing to give her fresh alarm. She found that Edmonson had excused his act to the spectators as a touch of delirium accompanying fever, and the next day he had fever beyond question, though not enough to be very dangerous.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

FOOTNOTES:

[E] Copyright, 1884, by Frances C. Sparhawk.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

Brutal and inhuman deeds are not changed in character or color by differences in latitude or longitude. The people of Quitman, Ga., committed a deed of this character when they put the torch of the incendiary to a school-house where ignorant colored children, in charity's sweet name, were being nurtured into nobler manhood and womanhood. This act of inhumanity, clearly inspired if not wholly sanctioned by a majority sentiment in the community, is not a solecism in history. In 1832-3, Prudence Crandall taught a successful school for girls in Canterbury, Conn., to which she admitted a colored girl, an intelligent church member, who desired to prepare herself to teach children of her own color. All Canterbury was thrown into a state of intense excitement and indignation by this act, and Miss Crandall had to choose between the expulsion of her colored pupil and the loss of her white ones. She pluckily faced the tumult, refused to sacrifice what she regarded as a principle, and her fashionable school opened its doors as an institution for colored girls only.

Increased excitement followed. A local politician, afterward a member of Congress, became the leader in a bitter and disgraceful prosecution of the brave woman, and, when they found it impossible to drive her from her position by ordinary measures, secured the passage of a law making it a crime to open a school for colored children without the consent of the selectmen of the town. The power of the State of Connecticut was thus invoked, and used for the crushing of one brave little Quakeress. Miss Crandall was arrested, and imprisoned in a cell from which a murderer had just gone to the gallows. Her case was tried in August, 1833. One jury failed to agree. Another found her guilty. The case was appealed, and proceedings quashed on the ground of an informality, the higher court thus evading the question raised as to the constitutionality of the law. An attempt to burn Miss Crandall's house followed, and on the night of Sept. 9, 1834, it was made untenantable under the assaults of a mob.

The subject of this bitter and relentless persecution, Mrs. Prudence (Crandall) Philleo, is still living, and tardy justice comes forward to recognize the wrong of a half century ago. The children of her persecutors unite with others in a petition to the lawmaking power which was induced to brand her as a criminal, to atone for past wrongs by present relief.

It is safe to say that the Canterbury of to-day would gladly blot from history this story of the Canterbury of a half century ago.[Pg 178]

It is equally safe to say that the Quitman of fifty years to come (and much sooner) will gladly bury in oblivion the story of the burning school-house and frightened and helpless females and children, which the Quitman of to-day has put upon the page of current history.

There is a very patent moral to this "Canterbury tale." It reads about as follows: Twenty-five years after the Canterbury persecution, its repetition would have been an impossibility. Twenty-five years after the Quitman persecution—or any other acts, in any southern state, of like character—what?

Let us, who are only fifty years away from similar deeds at our own doors, go our way, doing the works of charity, humanity, patriotism, and wait and see.

Archdeacon Farrar, in a recent article in the North American Review, pays a tribute to the virtues of the founders of New England which has been rarely excelled in fervor of rhetoric and laudatory statement by the most gifted of after-dinner orators among the sons of Puritans and Pilgrims.

"Those virtues," he says, "gave to James Otis and to Patrick Henry the prophet's tongue of flame. They nerved the arm of Washington in battle, and kindled the embattled farmers to fire 'the shot heard round the world.' They kindled the eloquence of Phillips and the song of Longfellow. They gave to Abraham Lincoln the faith at whose bidding a hundred thousand men sprang to their feet as one—the faith which brightened the six and thirty stars round the forehead of liberty, and flung the broken fetters of the last slave beneath her feet. If the church keep the people in their allegiance to those awful virtues, America shall still be the enlightener of the nations, the beautiful pioneer in the vanguard of the progress of the world. But if she spread a table to Fortune, or enshrine Mammon above her altars, if her commerce become dishonest, and her press debased, and her society frivolous, and her religion a mere twilight of wilful and self-induced delusion—she in her turn shall fall like Lucifer, son of the morning, and the double oceans which sweep her illimitable shores shall only plash to future empires a more sad, a more desolate, and a more unending dirge."

We suspect that this eloquence is expressive not only of impartial admiration, but of the pride that is partial. The parties concerned have common interests in the matter of grandfathers.[Pg 179]

The presidential message has met, as might have been anticipated, with a very varied reception from the great political parties, from the many-minded press, and from what may be designated the non-partisan or politically colorless section of the American people. Nor has it been more fortunate in securing unanimity of judgment as to its political merits and significance from the public organs which reflect with more or less precision and exactitude the opinions of the great community of nations on the other side the Atlantic. Party feeling, unless it be of a very enlightened, patriotic, and unselfish kind, is apt to breed the worst types of mental perversity, and give birth to paradoxes of the most startling character. And when a great national document, discussing matters vital to the well-being, prosperity and political advancement of the republic is declared by one influential paper to contain "no pregnant thought of statesmanship, no conspicuously original idea, no new issue to inspire discussion in Congress and among the people," and by another equally competent to frame a judgment to be "a model of good English, and forcible statement," while a third hesitates not to pronounce it "a message that will rank among the best documents of its kind," one naturally wonders what can be the cause of this curious conflict of sentiment; and after looking at the matter for a moment one is driven to the conclusion that the reference of the phenomenon to an invincible and uncompromising party sentiment is probably as scientific, comprehensive, and correct an explanation as any that can be thought of.

We are not disposed, however, to discuss the general merits of the recent message. We will only say that, in our opinion, the patriotic American citizen, whatever political party may enjoy his allegiance and support, will never have reason to complain—nay more—will never be without just occasion to feel proud of his country so long as she can produce a style of statesmanship, and a power of political exposition like those displayed by the present Chief Magistrate of the Republic.

One noteworthy excellence President Cleveland's message possesses, which has not excited as much remark as it deserves: we allude to the strenuous endeavor it exhibits to maintain, in spite of some recent difficulties, a peaceable and friendly attitude towards European nations, particularly Italy and Austria. It is not too much to hope that the conciliatory yet dignified tone and temper of the message in this regard may do something as a conspicuous example, to abate the war frenzy, and cool the morbid passion for "gunpowder and glory," which has been such a disturbing and dangerous element in European statesmanship and diplomacy for many years past, and is perhaps more menacing to the quiet of the world and the peaceful advancement of civilization[Pg 180] at the present moment than at any period since the days of the first Napoleon. Occupying her proud and promising position between the two great oceans; commanding, as a consequence, these great highways of "commerce, trade and travel"; enjoying a stretch of territory which not only affords scope for unlimited development of her great resources in a hundred different directions, but also acts as a check to any passion that might arise for territorial annexation or conquest; separated from the older nations by thousands of miles, she can afford to regard with comparative indifference the exciting game of European politics, and contemplate the deep designs of jealous and jarring diplomatists without any fear that her own house may catch fire.

There is, after all, something deeply pathetic in the terrible necessity which exposes persons of wealth, culture and exalted station to the unpitying penalties of greatness. A lesson ever needed, ever present, and yet constantly disregarded and defied, has just received a new and somewhat startling illustration in the sudden death of the amiable daughter and much-beloved wife of Secretary Bayard. Can it be necessary that society should sacrifice its brightest ornaments, and literally do itself to death, in order to maintain its existence? "Come ye yourselves into a desert place, and rest a while," reveals a law of health and happiness as inexorable and exacting in its demands, and as universal in its sway and scope, as any at work in the frame of material nature. Let us learn the truth and value of this ancient hint over the tear-bedewed grave of Kate Bayard.

The inevitable sequel of the English Parliamentary elections has come a little sooner than the twin foes of Lord Salisbury's ministry had ventured to anticipate. The "Constitutional" party, as English Toryism loves to style itself, has suffered signal and humiliating defeat, after a brief and precarious career of a few months; and the collapse is quite as complete as it is sudden. Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Parnell on the one hand, and the Marquis of Salisbury and Sir Michael Hicks-Beach on the other, must have been equally unprepared for what has happened. The Queen, caring not to conceal her political predilections, hesitated not to give her ostentatious approval and powerful endorsement to Tory management by consenting to open Parliament, as she had previously done for Lord Beaconsfield after his return from Berlin. A phenomenally large and brilliant assemblage of dukes, marquises, earls and viscounts, at Lord Salisbury's parliamentary dinner had made a similar attempt, a[Pg 181] few days before, to awe and fascinate by a spectacle of pomp and pageantry the too impressionable Briton. Nothing has been omitted that could in any way buttress the insecure and tottering fabric of aristocratic power. But as the ancient sage shrewdly observed, dementation is the prelude of doom; "whom the gods destroy they first infatuate." The representatives of the nation have taken the earliest opportunity that offered itself of rebuking this formidable attempt to over-ride by an ill-advised and illegitimate use of the "favor of the sovereign" the definitely declared will of the British people. The last Parliament was exceptionally rich in the display of character, in humorous and dramatic incident, and in unrehearsed and unpremeditated scenes of every kind; but undoubtedly the most striking and startling of its scenes was that of the younger Tories, unexpectedly triumphant, hailing with frantic joy and exultation the fall of the Gladstone government. The event was a surprise to both sides of the House, a surprise all the greater as up to the very moment of the appearance of the "tellers" on the floor of the House, no one doubted that the ministry had sufficient strength and vigor to withstand the blow that was aimed at its life. "Lord Kensington," to quote the words of an eye-witness, "came in hurriedly with a face set into determined absence of expression, and sat down by Mr. Gladstone. A few moments more and the paper was handed to Mr. Winn (Conservative whip) amid the loudest outbreak of cheering that the House of Commons has heard for more than a generation. Wild with delight, Lord Randolph Churchill actually leapt on to the bench, waving his hat with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy. His friends clustered round him, caught at him, drew him down, but could not restrain him from the vehement expression of his delight. The example was contagious. The whole House to the left of the speaker roared and shouted and thundered and waved its hats and clapped its hands in a frenzy of general delight. Their hour at last had come, and the fate of the ministry was sealed." Alas for human short-sightedness! How sad a thing the much-vaunted triumph has proved after all.

In little more than seven months the power so greedily snatched at has slipped from their grasp like the shadow of a dream. "They laugh best who laugh last." To the aristocracy and land-owning class generally, both of England and Ireland, the fall of the Tory government will be a cause of apprehension. By the majority of the British public it will be welcomed. The Liberals, as a political party, will, for a time at least, feel embarrassed by the event, while the Parnellites will regard it—whether rightly or wrongly, time alone can tell—as another important step toward the ultimate success of their cause and the consummation of their hopes.[Pg 182]

No one who heard the interesting address of the president of the Bostonian Society, Mr. Curtis Guild, at its fourth annual meeting, recently held at its rooms in the Old State House, Boston, could have failed to feel a renewed interest in American history, as especially emphasized by the preservation of interesting memorials.

This Society, the successor of the Boston Antiquarian Society, with a membership of between four and five hundred, is making itself felt in various ways in thus making practical the belief that a "visible relic of the past"—as Mr. Guild expressed it—-"tends to emphasize and strengthen an historic fact." He well illustrated this idea when he further said (and who that listened did not thrill with true patriotism?), "The walls that are about you are the self-same that existed at the time of the Boston Massacre; the windows the self-same openings—here, where the Declaration was read in 1776, and the Proclamation of Peace, in 1783; there, where Washington, in 1789, reviewed the procession in his honor. Within these very walls some of the greatest events of American history have occurred and the greatest and most notable men who figured in those events been gathered together."

Without doubt, this Old State House is the most genuine relic of the Revolution, now in existence. And the Society, in daily opening its rooms, with their historical possessions, free of charge, is offering to the public rare educational privileges which it should gratefully use and appreciate.

While the Bostonian Society is doing its special work of preserving historical objects and places from the hand of the ruthless destroyer, the Webster Historical Society, organized in 1878, is doing a parallel work in preserving for future generations the fame, work, and true spirit of America's foremost statesman and constitutional law-giver, Daniel Webster. Of course, such a work necessarily leads to a deep and practical interest in everything pertaining to America's political and national life to which the great man was so devoted. This Society, which has its headquarters in another old landmark of Boston, the Old South Meeting-House, has now a membership of twelve hundred, who are found in all parts of the country. The customary annual address, on the anniversary of Webster's birthday, January 18, is generally one of marked interest; notably so was the one of January, 1884; which, as afterwards published by the Society, was noticed by deep-thinkers, with perhaps more genuine interest than any other modern pamphlet of its size.[F] The address at the annual meeting of this year was given before a large and intelligent audience in the historic meeting-house by Rev. Thomas A. Hyde upon[Pg 183] Daniel Webster as an orator. Mr. Hyde's special study of the physical, mental, and expressional qualities which go to make an orator gave weight to the address. The aims and purposes of the Webster Historical Society are such as to command the sympathetic help of all American citizens in whatever direction it may labor.

It is to the credit of American womanhood that the presiding mistress of the White House is one who, while she is making history, is so intelligently in sympathy with everything connected with it. Her sensible ideas of the subject as revealed in the chapter on History in her recently published book, "George Eliot's Poetry, and other Studies," indicate a mind capable of seizing the essential facts and seeing in them the divine spark. "We must take the event as a starting point, and travel from it to the man and men behind it." And again, "Let us realize that history is the shrine of humanity, humanity essential in its essence in past, present, future, wherein is stored the ego—the thou and the I."

"Nowhere more than in the study of history is it needful to 'put yourself in his place'—i. e., to carry to the making of an image of the person whose form you seek to confront, those general and common ingredients which go to make up each man. When you have carried to him that much of yourself which is common to you both, you will, by this, be qualified to detect that in him which is himself strictly and not yourself; and so to a man you will add the individuality of the man and have what you seek.... Nowhere more than in history does it 'take a thief to catch a thief.'"

Miss Cleveland illustrates this in some essays which follow, where she carries herself back to "Old Rome and New France," to Charlemagne, to Joan of Arc, and other suggestive epochs.

In her essay on "Old Rome and New France," Miss Cleveland calls the Middle or Dark Ages, the Twilight Age. "It seems to me," she says, "that this period is not suggestively named when called the Middle Ages, nor accurately named when called the Dark Ages, but that both suggestion and accuracy combine in that view which denominates it as a Twilight Age. An idea which certainly embodies much of truth."

FOOTNOTES:

[F] John Adams, the Statesman of the Revolution, by Hon. Mellen Chamberlain, LL.D.

EDUCATION.

It cannot but be regarded as a wholesome and altogether welcome sign of the times that the science and methods as well as subject-matter of education are becoming increasingly popular questions, receiving a considerable share of attention, and inviting a more close, careful, and comprehensive study. Here, however, it happens, as it does in many other things: the difficulties of the problem multiply exactly in proportion to the clearness and completeness of our apprehension of what ought to be done, and the earnestness of purpose with which we address ourselves to the doing of it. Most of the troubles of human life, especially those of the most serious and pressing sort, are of a purely practical character, to be met and mastered, not with improved theory, but with better directed action. It is, of course, impossible to over-rate the value of right principles and correct methods of procedure. Light may be undervalued, neglected, despised; but it can never lead astray. On this account, every intelligent suggestion in the direction of educational reform should be listened to. But, on the other hand, there is great danger of too much emphasizing the need of change, and of forgetting how much the value and efficiency of any given scheme depends on the ability, wisdom, and earnestness of those who apply and administer it. One specialist insists, with great force of argument and convincing earnestness of spirit, on the need of devoting more attention to the training and development of the business faculty in the up-growing youth of the age. He looks at the matter from the side of an experienced, active, and successful man of business. Another is convinced that the spirit and tendency of the age make the study of the elements of physical science imperative. The paramount claims of history are urged by a third. A fourth considers a course of education essentially deficient which does not provide for a thorough study of the principal modern languages. While a fifth, with a view of securing at once an economy of study and a unity of knowledge, is inclined to think the time has come when children should be taught the rudimentary principles of the Spencerian philosophy, so that they may see how the several branches of their study stand related to each other.[G]

Now, while much of this only tends to confuse rather than to solve an already too-complicated question, it also shows how increased activity of thought and thoroughness of purpose bring us face to face with[Pg 185] difficulties of whose existence we had scarcely a suspicion. The more we accomplish, the more there is to challenge our courage, skill, and capabilities. Improved machinery, reformed methods, accumulated experience, with increased ability and aptitude on the part of teachers, cannot fail to advance the problem of popular education nearer to a satisfactory solution; but we must never allow ourselves to forget that many of the most important elements that contribute to the success of teaching are not at the command of the teacher. Education has to do with mind and character; and these are very subtle things, and exceedingly difficult to deal with; and success depends on many things that can never be incorporated in a theory or scheme of education, or in any curriculum of studies.

FOOTNOTES:

[G] This newest educational suggestion appears in a vigorous and thoughtful paper on "Education and a Philosophy of Life," in the January number of Education.

HISTORICAL RECORD.

[By sending to the editor brief contributions suitable for use in this department, readers will greatly add to its completeness and value.]

Dec. 22.—Meeting of the Maine Historical Society in Portland, President James W. Bradbury in the chair. A communication from Curtis M. Sawyer, of Mechanics Falls, called attention to the fact that traces of Indian settlements in Maine are now disappearing, and suggested that some means should be taken to mark sites of Indian villages and shell-heaps. The Rev. Henry O. Thayer read a paper on Popham colony. E. H. Elwell read a paper on the "British View of the Ashburton Treaty, and the Northeastern Boundary Question;" the Hon. Joseph Williamson on "The Rumored French Invasion of Maine in 1798;" the Rev. Dr. Burrage on "Additional Facts concerning George Waymouth;" Dr. Charles E. Banks on "The Administration of William Gorges from 1636 to 1637." The original diploma of the Society of the Cincinnati, signed by George Washington and General Knox, was exhibited by Thomas L. Talbot. B. F. Stevens, of London, who has for many years collected documents relating to the Revolution, and negotiations of that period, requested that the attention of Congress be called to these manuscripts, and an effort be made to have the government purchase them. It was voted to refer the matter to a standing committee with power. It was also voted that the subject relating to the limits of Indian towns be left to a standing committee.

Dec. 21.—Forefather's Day was appropriately celebrated in many places. At Plymouth, addresses were delivered by Hon. Thomas Russell,[Pg 186] President of the Pilgrim Society, James Russell Lowell, Rev. George E. Ellis, D. D., Dr. Henry M. Dexter, Judge Charles Levi Woodbury, and others.

Dec. 22.—Dedication of new public library building in Chelsea, the gift of Eustace C. Fitz. An eloquent dedicatory address was delivered by James Russell Lowell.

Dec. 24.—Streets of Lawrence lighted for the first time by the incandescent electric light.

Jan. 6.—Annual meeting of the New England Historic Genealogical Society. Marshall P. Wilder was re-elected President, and Grover Cleveland was made an honorary member. The following were elected to fill vacancies in the old board of officers: Vice-president, Horace Fairbanks, of St. Johnsbury, Vt.; honorary vice-presidents, Charles C. Jones, of Savannah, Ga., and W. F. Mallalieu, of New Orleans, La.; director, John F. Andrew, of Boston; committee on heraldry, John K. Clarke, of Needham; committee on library, Walter Adams, of Framingham; committee on papers and essays, Waldo Burnett, of Southboro, Alexander Williams, of Boston. The report of the treasurer showed: Income of the past year, $3,637.92; expenditures, $3,510.61; present balance, $127.31; total of the building fund, $25,028.19; total of all funds, $66,610.23. The librarian's report showed: Addition of books by purchase, 121; by gift, 401; present total, 20,778; pamphlets purchased, 30; gifts, 1848. Present total, 64,604. Nathaniel F. Safford offered a resolution of thanks to Mr. Wilder for his services in general to the society, and in particular for his persevering personal efforts during the past few years by which he has obtained, not merely the subscriptions of his friends, but the payment thereof for the building fund of the society, so that the money, about $25,000, is now on deposit, and at the society's disposal. The resolution was adopted unanimously by a rising vote.

Meeting of Massachusetts Legislature. President Pillsbury of the Senate, Speaker Brackett, of the House, and Clerks Gifford and Mr. Laughlin were re-elected. Captain J. G. B. Adams, of Lynn, was elected Sergeant-at-Arms.

Dec. 12.—Annual meeting of the Bostonian Society. The following were chosen directors for the coming year: Thomas C. Amory, William S. Appleton, Thomas J. Allen, Joshua P. Bodfish, Curtis Guild, John T. Hassam, Hamilton A. Hill, Samuel H. Russell, and William Wilkins Warren. The report on the library showed a total of 520 volumes, and many pamphlets not yet enumerated, being an addition of 184 volumes, and 126 pamphlets during the year. The report of the treasurer showed: Balance of last year, $3,857.85; receipts, to make a total of $4,736.65; expenditures, to leave a present balance of $1,992.23. It[Pg 187] was announced that Mr. D. T. V. Huntoon, the secretary and treasurer, declined a re-election, being about to take a journey for the benefit of his health. The vacancy was not filled.

Jan. 14.—Monthly meeting of the Massachusetts Historical Society. Dr. Green, as one of the executors of the will of John Langdon Sibley, read that part of the will in which he has constituted this society the residuary legatee of nearly all his estate. This amount is by far the largest sum of money ever given or bequeathed to the society, and will place the name of Sibley among the greatest benefactors of historical research. It was voted that a committee consisting of Judge Hoar, Mr. Cobb, and Professor E. C. Smyth be appointed to consider and report to the society what action should be taken in view of this munificent bequest.

Mr. R. C. Winthrop, Jr., communicated thirty-two letters, written between 1693 and 1699, from General Lord Cutts to Colonel Joseph Dudley, then lieutenant-governor of the Isle of Wight, and afterward governor of Massachusetts. They contain incidental reference to William of Orange, and many public men of that period, as well as to the campaign of the allied army in Flanders, and the evident sincerity and soldierly bluntness of the writer renders them quite entertaining. Lord Cutts was not merely a famous commander, but a poet, and his verses are quoted by Horace Walpole. Mr. Winthrop expressed a desire to learn where a picture of him might be found, and he discussed the authority and probable date of various portraits of Governor Joseph Dudley, and his wife, Rebecca Tyng.

Mr. Appleton spoke of the flag carried by the minute-men of Bedford to Concord, on the 19th of April, 1775, a photograph of which had been exhibited at the last meeting. It was originally designed in England in 1660-70 for the three county troops of Massachusetts, and became one of the accepted standards of the organized militia of this State, and as such was used by the Bedford company. Mr. Appleton said that in his opinion this flag far exceeds in historic value the famed flag of Eutaw and Pulaski's banner, and, in fact, is the most precious memorial of its kind of which we have any knowledge.

The Hon. R. C. Winthrop presented from the Hon. John Bigelow, of New York, late minister to France, and author of an elaborate life of Franklin, five old maps, on one of which the name of this city is spelled Baston, and on another Briston.

Mr. Windsor made a communication in reference to a ditch and embankment found in Weston, at the confluence of Stony Brook and Charles River, which indicate, it has been lately said, that a trading post and fort were erected there by the French in the early part of the sixteenth century. He gave reasons for the opinion that these relics[Pg 188] may mark the site of an early attempt to found the town of Boston there, since soon after the arrival of Winthrop at Salem he set out for Charlestown, whence, with a party, he explored the neighboring rivers for a convenient spot to found their town, and discovered such a place "three leagues up Charles River." Dr. Palfrey, who seems not to have known of the existence of these remains, says that the spot must have been somewhere in Waltham or Weston, and most likely near the mouth of Stony Brook.

Mr. Winsor also read a paper in which he referred to a statement which had appeared in several popular histories, that, during the eight years of the Revolutionary War, the thirteen colonies sent two hundred and thirty-two thousand men to the Continental army. He traced the origin of this extravagant statement. In 1790, General Knox, then Secretary of War, presented to President Washington a report on the number of troops furnished during the war. He showed the number credited to the several States, making no distinction between those who served for a shorter or a longer period, and he did not tabulate his separate statements for each year into one including the whole war. This was done, however, in the first volume of the New Hampshire Historical Society's collections, and the error was copied by many subsequent publications. It was afterwards said in explanation, that these figures denoted enlistments or years of service, and not men. The truth of the matter is that these figures are worthless as representing the number of men which made up the Continental line, or the years of actual service, and their only value is as enabling us approximately to judge how much more or less relatively one State contributed than another to the military force that gained our independence.

Dec. 17.—The committee appointed by the Providence City Council to consider what action should be taken by the city government for the proper observance of its two hundred and fiftieth anniversary, submitted its report. The committee is of the opinion that the celebration should consist of a festival lasting two days. It is recommended that the first day be devoted to literary and historical exercises in the First Baptist Meeting-House, with an historical address giving a complete history of the city, together with appropriate odes, poems, and music. The committee recommends that on the second day there be a grand trades procession representative of the past and present industries of Providence; also an elaborate military and civic parade; that, in the afternoon, balloon ascensions, band concerts, and other amusements be provided for the people, and that the celebration be brought to a termination by a grand display of fireworks in the evening. As the best historical[Pg 189] authorities name the date of the founding of Providence as between the 20th and 25th of June, the committee is of the opinion that the 23d and 24th should be selected. This suggestion is made also in view of the fact that the 24th of June will be observed as a festival day by the French residents, and the Masonic Fraternity. It is proposed that the city appropriate $10,000 for the observance, and that the State legislature be requested to make a further appropriation of $5,000.

Jan. 6.—The Legislature organized by electing Stiles T. Stanton, President pro tem. of the Senate, and John T. Tibbets, of New London, as Speaker of the House.

The article on the Wayte family, in the January number of the New England Magazine, has provoked much pleasant comment in Lyme, the birthplace and summer home of Chief Justice Waite, and New London, the residence of Hon. John T. Wait.

The History of Hartford County in two splendid volumes, press of Ticknor & Co., of Boston, is now being printed, and will be ready for delivery in a few weeks.

Six young men, playing Spanish mandolins, guitars, and harps, says the Chicago Herald, Jan. 18, sat in the balcony of one of the banquet halls at Kinsley's last evening. Below the musicians, and seated at an E-shaped table were two hundred and fifty elderly gentlemen, members of the Illinois Association of the Sons of Vermont, who were destroying their ninth annual banquet. Pots filled with pork and beans, huge pumpkin pies, and large blocks of brown bread were spread before the banqueters. Glass fruit-dishes piled high with ruddy winter apples and little dishes overflowing with cracked hickory nuts came later, and then all these good things were washed down with cider and claret. The toasts were: "Vermont," H. N. Hibbard; "Clergymen of Vermont," Rev. G. N. Boardman; "Stumps of Vermont," E. B. Sherman; "The Star that never sets," W. W. Chandler. After the speech-making, Jules Lombard, robed in black and wearing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles upon the breast of his Prince Albert coat, sang "America" and a pretty Scottish serenade. Among those present were E. G. Keith, II, P. Kellogg, O. S. A. Sprague, R. S. Smith, Gen. H. H. Thomas, H. N. Hibbard, George Chandler, Harvey Edgerton, Dr. C. N. Fitch, E. A. Jewett, Col. Arba N. Waterman, E. B. Sherman, John M. Thatcher, A. W. Butler, Frank Deinson, H. N. Nash, John M. Southworth, George W. Newcombe, and S. W. Burnham.

NECROLOGY.

December 15.—Samuel Dyer, a pioneer in the anti-slavery movement, died at South Abington, Mass., aged seventy-eight years. He was intimately associated with Wendell Phillips and Garrison as an abolitionist, and at one time held the office of president of the anti-slavery society of Plymouth county. He was among the first to aid and assist Frederick Douglass. When George Thompson, of England, became identified with the anti-slavery movement, his intercourse with Mr. Dyer began, and they worked together in the cause for many years. He had been a prominent business man of the town and had held several public offices.

On the same day died at his home in Cambridge, Mass., James C. Fisk, ex-president of the Cambridge Railroad Company. He was born in Cambridge in 1825, and always lived in that city. He was President of the Fiskdale Mills, at Sturbridge, Mass. Mr. Fisk was president of the common council two years, 1858-9.

December 20.—Frederic Kidder died in Melrose, Mass., aged eighty-one years. He was born in New Ipswich, N. H., and was formerly engaged in the cotton trade in Boston. He was a member of the New England Historic Genealogical Society, and published several historical works.

December 22.—Rev. Daniel James Noyes, D. D., Professor Emeritus of Intellectual and Moral Philosophy and Political Economy at Dartmouth College, being in term of service next to the senior instructor in that institution, died at Chester, N. H. He was born in Springfield, Sept. 17, 1812; was fitted for college at Pembroke, and was graduated from Dartmouth in 1832; after graduation was a tutor at Columbian College at Washington; was graduated from the Andover Theological Seminary in 1836, and then for one year was a tutor at Dartmouth. In 1837 he was ordained to the ministry and installed pastor of the South Congregational Church in Concord. In 1849 he was dismissed in order to accept the Phillips Foundation Chair of Theology at Dartmouth, which he filled until 1869, when he was transferred to the chair which he held at the time of his death, having been Professor Emeritus since 1883. The University of Vermont conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity in 1854.

December 29.—Edwin D. Sanborn, LL.D., Winkley Professor Emeritus at Dartmouth College of Anglo-Saxon and English Language and Literature, died in New York. He was born at Gilmanton, N. H., May 14, 1808, and was the son of David Edwin and Harriet (Hook) Sanborn.[Pg 191] He was fitted at Gilmanton Academy, and was graduated from Dartmouth College in 1832. He gained reputation as a teacher in the academies at Derry and Topsfield, Mass., and at Gilmanton, being preceptor of the latter. In 1834 he declined a tutorship at Dartmouth, and at Meredith Bridge began the study of law, which he abandoned and entered the Andover Theological Seminary. In 1835 he was a tutor at Hanover; then Professor of Latin and Greek for two years, and later filled the chair of Latin alone from 1837 to 1859. Then he accepted the place of Professor of Latin and Classical Literature at Washington University, St. Louis, where he remained four years. In March, 1863, he returned to Hanover and became Professor of Rhetoric and Belles Lettres. In 1880 he took the Winkley chair. Since 1882 he had been Professor Emeritus, his failing health preventing him from performing the duties of that professorship. The deceased was licensed as a Congregational minister, Nov. 1, 1836. The University of Vermont in 1859 conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws. For many years he held most of the justice's courts in Hanover. In 1848 and '49 he represented the town in the Legislature and was a delegate to the Constitutional Convention in 1850. In 1869 he was elected to the State Senate, but declined to serve. The deceased was widely known as an orator and literateur. In 1875 he published a history of New Hampshire. The death of Professor Sanborn is not only a great loss to Dartmouth College, but to the State and country at large.

Jan. 3.—A. S. Roe, author of many popular stories, died in East Windsor, Conn., aged eighty-seven years.

On the same day Prof. Charles E. Hamlin, of the Harvard Museum of Natural History, died at Cambridge, Mass., aged sixty years.

Jan. 4.—-Zuar Eldridge Jameson, died in Irasburg, Orleans County, Vt., aged fifty-one years. He was a well-known writer and lecturer on agricultural topics, whose initials, with transpositions, as well as other pseudonyms, are familiar to readers of the agricultural papers, particularly the New York Weekly Tribune, Albany, N. Y., Country Gentleman and Boston Cultivator. He was a member of the lower branch of the Vermont Legislature in 1878, and of the State Board of Agriculture in 1870-74, for many years Secretary of the Orleans County Agricultural Society, and for one or two years lecturer of the Vermont State Grange, Patrons of Husbandry. Aside from the large amount of purely agricultural matter written he was a frequent producer of short sketches of fiction, usually treating of rural life. He was associated with Dr. T. H. Hoskins in the editing of the old Vermont Farmer (not the present Vermont Farmer) at Newport, which was from a literary standpoint the most successful of Vermont agricultural journals.

Jan. 5.—Death of Noble H. Hill, senior proprietor of the Boston[Pg 192] Theatre. He was born in Shoreham, Vt., in 1821; received a good education; came to Boston in 1840; was in active trade till 1867, being at that time a partner in the firm of Hill, Burrage & Co; in 1876 became a partner with Orlando Tompkins for conducting the Boston Theatre.

On the same day died Dr. James H. Whittemore, Superintendent of the Massachusetts General Hospital, aged 47 years.

Jan. 8.—Death of the Hon. Nahum Capen, at Dorchester, Mass., aged eighty-two years. He was born in Canton in 1804. He came to Boston at the age of twenty-one, embarked in the publishing business in the firm of Marsh, Capen & Lyon, and afterward was connected with several of the leading publishing houses of this city. His tastes were always literary, and for the past forty years he has devoted himself to literature and study, except when he held the office of postmaster, 1857 to 1861. He was appointed postmaster by President Buchanan, and it was during his term of office that the postoffice was removed from the Merchant's Exchange building to Summer street at the corner of Chauncy street, where it remained for about a year and a half. He mapped out the free delivery system, and was the first postmaster in the country to establish the outside letter collection boxes. Mr. Capen has written (most of them anonymously) and has published many books, scientific and political, and was a very liberal contributor to the newspapers and magazines. He was a sound thinker and was considered an able writer. His last work, on which he has been engaged for twenty-five years, is a history of Democracy. The first volume has been published, and the remaining three have been written and are ready to be printed, except a portion of the last.

LITERATURE AND ART.

History of the Civil War in America.[H] The deep and widespread interest which is being felt in this country in all that relates to the late war is likely to receive increased stimulus from the appearance of recent instalments of the translation of the "History" of the Comte de Paris. The fact that the narrative is written by a foreigner, not so much for the information of American as of European readers, will in no way interfere with the profound interest Americans themselves must feel in what, when finished, will probably be, if not the most impartial yet the most accurate, comprehensive, complete, and reliable record of that long, lamentable and costly struggle. The interest in American affairs which[Pg 193] has culminated in the production of this history had been a long-cherished feeling with the author before he conceived the purpose which he has so far executed so admirably. For years materials of all kinds that promised to shed light upon his subject and assist him in his undertaking had been industriously collected. He enjoyed, besides, the great advantage of having personally served on the staff of General McClellan, in this way attaching to himself many friends, who, after his return to Europe, continued to keep him posted up in all that related to the movements of the belligerents, and the incidents and aspects of the conflict. These advantages, together with the count's very thorough knowledge of military science, justified his attempting a task which, as it approaches completion, promises to be a splendid success, and which, so far as it has been carried out, has already received high commendation from distinguished soldiers and statesmen both in Europe and America. The work, though voluminous, is sure to find, as it deserves, many readers. No American professing to be proud of his country's struggles and achievements can well afford to be ignorant of its contents. It may be as well to note that the Count fully confides in the translator's ability to perform his task with care and accuracy.

FOOTNOTES:

[H] Philadelphia: Porter & Coates.

INDEX TO PERIODICAL LITERATURE.

(First numeral refers to foot note and name of periodical. Second numeral to page. Date of periodical is that of month preceding this issue of the New England Magazine, unless otherwise stated.)

Anthropology and Ethnology. Lo, the Poor Indian. Geo. F. Marshall. 3, 206.—Varieties of the Human Species. Horatio Hale. Illus. 5, 296.—Natural Heirship, or the World Akin. Rev. Henry Kendall. 5, 377.—Race Characteristics of the Jews. 5, 429.—Prehistoric Human Remains in Mexico. 5, 420.

Art. "Famous Pictures and the Sermons they teach." Crit. art. on Reynolds' painting of the infant Samuel. Rev. Robt. Maguire, D. D. 1, 1.—A French Painter (M. Duran) and his Pupils. 7, 373.—A Broad View of Art. 7, 474.—The Lesson of Greek Art. Charles Waldstein. 7, 397.—Sir Joshua Reynolds. Frances C. Sparhawk.

Biography. Tribute to Thomas A. Hendricks. Hon. J. W. Gerard. 2, 18.—Bishop Meade of Va. John Washington. James Bridger. 2, 93.—David Meade of Ky. 2, 94.—John Breckenridge of Va. 2, 97.—B. F. Wade, the Judge. Hon. A. G. Riddle. 3, 235.—Thomas Hoyne, Chicago. 3, 288.—Judge Stephenson Burke, Cleveland, O. 3, 296.—Dr. Wm. Bushnell, Mansfield, O. 3, 306.—George Whittier Jackson. David Hostetter, Pittsburg. 3, 258. Frank Buckland (Scientist). 5, 401.—Guiseppi Verdi, Port. 7, 323-414.—Daniel Webster. Rogers. 8, 13.—Richard and Gamaliel Wayte. A. T. Lovell. 8, 48.

Education. Early Education in Ohio. Jessie Cohen. 3, 217.—Can College Graduates succeed in Business? 4, 111.—The Flower or the Leaf. Primary Education. Mary Putnam Jacobi. 5, 325.—Southern Women as Teachers of Colored Children. 7, 478. Education and a Philosophy of Life. J. C. Dana. 10, 215.—Education of the Colored Race. Andrews. 10, 231.—Organization of Higher Education. Beale. 10, 233.—Education of Girls. Fenelon. 10, 242.—A Want, and How to Meet It. Klemm. 10, 248.—Reports on Education. 10, 272.—New Education. Livermore. 10, 290.—Overpressure in High Schools of Denmark. A. T. Smith. 10, 299.—Educational Institutions. Brown University. R. A. Guild, LL.D. 8, 1.[Pg 194]

Geology. "Gray Wethers." The Saccharoid Sandstone of Salisbury Plain. Grant Allen. 4, 94.

History. "Paul Revere." 1735-1818. E. H. Goss. Portrait and illus.—From Burnside to Hooker. Transfer of the Army of the Potomac, 1863. Maj. Wm. Howard Mills. 2, 44.—Operations before Ft. Donelson. Gen. W. F. (Baldy) Smith. Illus. 2, 20.—Slavery in America. Its Origin and Consequences. John A. Logan. Portrait of writer. 2, 57.—Washington's First Campaign. T. J. Chapman, A.M. 2, 66.—The New Year's Holiday. Its Origin and Observance. Martha J. Lamb. 2, 79.—Gen. W. F. Smith's Unpublished Reports of the Capture of Ft. Donelson. 2, 82.—Letters: Jas. Meyrick to Benedict Arnold, and John Hancock to Gen. Washington. 1781. 2, 89.—Churches in Newark, N. J., in 1707. 2, 93.—Boston Riot of 1788. 2, 95.—Detroit during Revolutionary Days. Silas Farmer. 3, 250.—Expedition of Gen. Geo. Rogers Clark, and Capture of Kaskaskia. 1778. John Moses. 3, 267.—The City of the Straits (Detroit). H. A. Griffin. 3, 270.—The "Lost State" of Franklin. 3, 321.—First Exploration of Northwest by John Nicolet. 3, 322.—Ohio's Coming Centennial. 3, 323.—A New Field of Am. Hist. (Pacific States). 5, 371.—The Second Battle of Bull Run. Gen. John Pope. 7, 442.—Recollections of a Private. Warren L. Goss. 7, 467.—Attleboro, Mass. Barrows. 8, 27.—Social Life in Early New England. Anson Titus. 8, 63.—Dutch Village Communities on the Hudson River, 11, 4th series.—Shiloh Campaign. Gen. Beauregard. 13, 1.—Sherman on Grant. 13.

Literature, Libraries, etc. Early Libraries in Cincinnati. Prof. W. H. Venable. 3, 245.—George Eliot's Criticisms on her Contemporaries. 4, 19.—The Future Literary Capital of the U. S. 4, 104.—Progress toward Literary Knowledge. 6, 9.—Questions in English, German and Greek Literature. 6, 17-21.

Medicine, Hygiene, Physiology, Etc. Pioneer Medicine of the Western Reserve. D. P. Allen, M.D. 3, 278.—Inoculation against Hydrophobia. M. Louis Pasteur. 5, 289.—The Physiology of the Feet. T. S. Ellis, M.R.C.S. 5, 395.—Color Blindness. 5, 431.—Physiological Experiments. 5, 425.—How Milk is Tainted. 5, 421.

Miscellany. The Bladensburg Races. A humorous historic ballad. Comments by Horatio C. King. 2, 85.

Money and Finance. Banks and Bankers of Cleveland. 3, 313.—Origin of Primitive Money. 5, 296.

Natural History. Fish out of Water. Grant Allen. 5, 334.—Fruits of the Pacific. 5, 421.—Recent Experiments in Hybridization. 7, 476.—Feathered Forms of Other Days. Illus. R. M. Shufeldt. 7, 352.

Politics, Economics, Law, Etc. A Time of Universal Prosperity (in Mich.), and What Came of It. Hon. Bela Hubbard. 3, 199.—Civil Service Reform. Gail Hamilton. 4, 67.—How our Railroads have become Luxurious. 4, 110.—Communal Societies. Charles Morris. 5, 325.—Medieval English Law. 5, 423.—The New Political Economy. 7, 475.—Life Insurance. G. A. Litchfield. 8, 68.—Canadian Prospects and Politics. Lord Lorne. Alex. Pirie. Sir J. A. McDonald. 13.—Democracy in England. Andrew Carnegie. 13.—Disfranchisement of Delaware. 13.—Letters to Prominent Persons. A. Lichmond. 13.—Landlordism in America. T. P. Gill, M.P. 13.

Recreation. Thoughts on Archery. Agnes Fraser Sandham. 12, 371.—Around the World on a Bicycle. W. A. Rogers. 12, 379.—Ladies' Tour to Kettle Cove. M. C. Smith. 12, 43.—Ice Skating in Canada. Otley. 12, 413.—Pedestrian Tour in the Scottish Highlands. E. S. Farwell. 12, 436.

Science. Science in its Useful Applications. W. Odling, F.R.S. 5, 388.—Agatized Wood of Arizona. 5, 362.—Nonconformity (in Types). Herbert Spencer. 5, 367.—How Woods Preserve Moisture. Elm Leaf Berth. 5, 429.—The Age of Trees. 5, 424.

D C	John Thurston	}
38 1	Paul Wetherbee	}	Selectmen."

THE

New England Magazine

AND

BAY STATE MONTHLY.

Contents

TUFTS COLLEGE.

BY REV. E. H. CAPEN, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

THE MENDICANT.

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD.

THE GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC IN MASSACHUSETTS.

BY PAST COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF GEO. S. MERRILL.

ON DETACHED SERVICE.

AN EPISODE OF THE CIVIL WAR.

BY CHARLES A. PATCH, MASS. VOLS.

A TOWN MEETING-HOUSE,

AND TOWN POLITICS IN THE LAST CENTURY.

BY ATHERTON P. MASON, M. D.

FOOTNOTES:

ABBOT ACADEMY.[C]

BY ANNIE SAWYER DOWNS.

FOOTNOTES:

THE ORIGINAL NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE.

BY REV. EDGAR BUCKINGHAM.

IRISH HOME RULE AGITATION:

ITS HISTORY AND ISSUES.

BY REV. H. HEWITT.

ELIZABETH.[E]

A ROMANCE OF COLONIAL DAYS.

By Frances C. Sparhawk, Author of "A Lazy Man's Work."

CHAPTER XXX.

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

CHAPTER XXXI.

EYES UNSEALED.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

FOOTNOTES:

EDITOR'S TABLE.

FOOTNOTES:

EDUCATION.

FOOTNOTES:

HISTORICAL RECORD.

NECROLOGY.

LITERATURE AND ART.

FOOTNOTES:

INDEX TO PERIODICAL LITERATURE.