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[Illustration: Daniel Lothrop]




THE

BAY STATE MONTHLY.

_A Massachusetts Magazine_.

VOL. II.

DECEMBER, 1884.

No. 3.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, by John N.
McClintock and Company, in the office of the Librarian of Congress at
Washington.

       *       *       *       *       *

DANIEL LOTHROP.

By JOHN N. MCCLINTOCK, A.M.


The fame, character and prosperity of a city have often depended upon
its merchants,--burghers they were once called to distinguish them from
haughty princes and nobles. Through the enterprise of the common
citizens, Venice, Genoa, Antwerp, and London have become famous, and
have controlled the destinies of nations. New England, originally
settled by sturdy and liberty-loving yeomen and free citizens of free
English cities, was never a congenial home for the patrician, with
inherited feudal privileges, but has welcomed the thrifty Pilgrim, the
Puritan, the Scotch Covenanter, the French Huguenot, the Ironsides
soldiers of the great Cromwell. The men and women of this fusion have
shaped our civilization. New England gave its distinctive character to
the American colonies, and finally to the nation. New England influences
still breathe from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the great lakes
to Mexico; and Boston, still the focus of the New England idea, leads
national movement and progress.

Perhaps one of the broadest of these influences--broadest inasmuch as it
interpenetrates the life of our whole people--proceeds from the lifework
of one of the merchants of Boston, known by his name and his work to the
entire English speaking world: Daniel Lothrop, of the famous firm of D.
Lothrop & Co., publishers--the people's publishing house. Mr. Lothrop is
a good representative of this early New England fusion of race,
temperament, fibre, conscience and brain. He is a direct descendant of
John Lowthroppe, who, in the thirty-seventh year of Henry VIII. (1545),
was a gentleman of quite extensive landed estates, both in Cherry Burton
(four miles removed from Lowthorpe), and in various other parts of the
country.

Lowthorpe is a small parish in the Wapentake of Dickering, in the East
Riding of York, four and a half miles northeast from Great Driffield. It
is a perpetual curacy in the archdeaconry of York. This parish gave name
to the family of Lowthrop, Lothrop, or Lathrop. The Church, which was
dedicated to St. Martin, and had for one of its chaplains, in the reign
of Richard II., Robert de Louthorp, is now partly ruinated, the tower
and chancel being almost entirely overgrown with ivy. It was a
collegiate Church from 1333, and from the style of its architecture must
have been built about the time of Edward III.

From this English John Lowthroppe the New England Lothrops have their
origin:--

     "It is one of the most ancient of all the famous New England
     families, whose blood in so many cases is better and purer than
     that of the so-called noble families in England. The family roll
     certainly shows a great deal of talent, and includes men who have
     proved widely influential and useful, both in the early and later
     periods. The pulpit has a strong representation. Educators are
     prominent. Soldiers prove that the family has never been wanting in
     courage. Lothrop missionaries have gone forth into foreign lands.
     The bankers are in the forefront. The publishers are represented.
     Art engraving has its exponent, and history has found at least one
     eminent student, while law and medicine are likewise indebted to
     this family, whose talent has been applied in every department of
     useful industry,"[A]

[Footnote A: _The Churchman_.]


GENEALOGY.[B]

[Footnote B: From a genealogical memoir of the Lo-Lathrop family, by
Rev. E.B. Huntington, 1884.]

I. Mark Lothrop, the pioneer, the grandson of John Lowthroppe and a
relative of Rev. John Lothrop, settled in Salem, Mass., where he was
received as an inhabitant January 11, 1643-4. He was living there in
1652. In 1656 he was living in Bridgewater, Mass., of which town he was
one of the proprietors, and in which he was prominent for about
twenty-five years. He died October 25, 1685.

II. Samuel Lothrop, born before 1660, married Sarah Downer, and lived in
Bridgewater. His will was dated April 11, 1724.

III. Mark Lothrop, born in Bridgewater September 9, 1689; married March
29, 1722, Hannah Alden [Born February 1, 1696; died 1777]. She was the
daughter of Deacon Joseph Alden of Bridgewater, and great grand-daughter
of Honorable John and Priscilla (Mullins) Alden of Duxbury, of Mayflower
fame. He settled in Easton, of which town he was one of the original
proprietors. He was prominent in Church and town affairs.

IV. Jonathan Lothrop, born March 11, 1722-3; married April 13, 1746,
Susannah, daughter of Solomon and Susannah (Edson) Johnson of
Bridgewater. She was born in 1723. He was a Deacon of the Church, and a
prominent man in the town. He died in 1771.

V. Solomon Lothrop, born February 9, 1761; married Mehitable, daughter
of Cornelius White of Taunlon; settled in Easton, and later in Norton,
where he died October 19, 1843. She died September 14, 1832, aged 73.

VI. Daniel Lothrop, born in Easton, January 9, 1801; married October 16,
1825, Sophia, daughter of Deacon Jeremiah Horne of Rochester, N.H. She
died September 23, 1848, and he married (2) Mary E. Chamberlain. He
settled in Rochester, N.H., and was one of the public men of the town.
Of the strictest integrity, and possessing sterling qualities of mind
and heart Mr. Lothrop was chosen to fill important offices of public
trust in his town and state. He repeatedly represented his town in the
Legislature, where his sound practical sense and clear wisdom were of
much service, particularly in the formation of the Free Soil party, in
which he was a bold defender of the rights of liberty to all men. He
died May 31, 1870.

VII. Daniel Lothrop, son of Daniel and Sophia (Horne) Lothrop, was born
in Rochester, N.H., August 11, 1831.

     "On the maternal side Mr. Lothrop is descended from William Horne,
     of Horne's Hill, in Dover, who held his exposed position in the
     Indian wars, and whose estate has been in the family name from 1662
     until the present generation; but he was killed in the massacre of
     June 28, 1689. Through the Horne line, also, came descent from Rev.
     Joseph Hull, minister at Durham in 1662, a graduate at the
     University at Cambridge, England; from John Ham, of Dover; from the
     emigrant John Heard, and others of like vigorous stock. It was his
     ancestress, Elizabeth (Hull) Heard, whom the old historians call a
     "brave gentlewoman," who held her garrison house, the frontier fort
     in Dover in the Indian wars, and successfully defended it in the
     massacre of 1689. The father of the subject of this sketch was a
     man of sterling qualities, strong in mind and will, but commanding
     love as well as respect. The mother was a woman of outward beauty
     and beauty of soul alike; with high ideals and reverent
     conscientiousness. Her influence over her boys was life-long. The
     home was a centre of intelligent intercourse, a sample of the
     simplicity but earnestness of many of the best New Hampshire
     homesteads."[A]

[Footnote A: Rec. Alonzo H. Quint, D.D. in _Granite Monthly_.]

Descended, as is here evident, from men and women accustomed to govern,
legislate, protect, guide and represent the people, it is not surprising
to find the Lothrops of the present day of this branch standing in high
places, shaping affairs, and devising fresh and far-reaching measures
for the general good.

Daniel Lothrop was the youngest of the three sons of Daniel and Sophia
Home Lothrop. The family residence was on Haven's Hill, in Rochester,
and it was an ideal home in its laws, influences and pleasures. Under
the guidance of the wise and gentle mother young Daniel developed in a
sound body a mind intent on lofty aims, even in childhood, and a
character early distinguished for sturdy uprightness. Here, too, on the
farm was instilled into him the faith of his fathers, brought through
many generations, and he openly acknowledged his allegiance to an
Evangelical Church at the age of eleven.

As a boy Daniel is remembered as possessing a retentive and singularly
accurate memory; as very studious, seeking eagerly for knowledge, and
rapidly absorbing it. His intuitive mastery of the relations of numbers,
his grasp of the values and mysteries of the higher mathematics, was
early remarkable. It might be reasonably expected of the child of seven
who was brought down from the primary benches and lifted up to the
blackboard to demonstrate a difficult problem in cube root to the big
boys and girls of the upper class that he should make rapid and
masterful business combinations in later life.

At the age of fourteen he was sufficiently advanced in his studies to
enter college, but judicious friends restrained him in order that his
physique might be brought up to his intellectual growth, and presently
circumstances diverted the boy from his immediate educational
aspirations and thrust him into the arena of business:--the world may
have lost a lawyer, a clergyman, a physician, or an engineer, but by
this change in his youthful plans it certainly has gained a great
publisher--a man whose influence in literature is extended, and who, by
his powerful individuality, his executive force, and his originating
brain has accomplished a literary revolution.

To understand the business career of Daniel Lothrop it will be necessary
to trace the origin and progress of the firm of D. Lothrop and Company.
On reaching his decision to remain out of college for a year he assumed
charge of the drug store, then recently opened by his eldest brother,
James E. Lothrop, who, desiring to attend medical lectures in
Philadelphia, confidently invited his brother Daniel to carry on the
business during his absence.

     "He urged the young boy to take charge of the store, promising as
     an extra inducement an equal division as to profits, and that the
     firm should read 'D. Lothrop & Co.' This last was too much for our
     ambitious lad. When five years of age he had scratched on a piece
     of tin these magic words, opening to fame and honor, 'D. Lothrop &
     Co.,' nailing the embryo sign against the door of his play house.
     How then could he resist, now, at fourteen? And why not spend the
     vacation in this manner? And so the sign was made and put up, and
     thus began the house of 'D. Lothrop & Co.,' the name of which is
     spoken as a household word wherever the English language is used,
     and whose publications are loved in more than one of the royal
     families of Europe."[A]

[Footnote A: Rev. Dr. Quint]

The drug store became very lucrative. The classical drill which had
been received by the young druggist was of great advantage to him, his
thorough knowledge of Latin was of immediate service, and his skill and
care and knowledge was widely recognized and respected. The store became
his college, where his affection for books soon led him to introduce
them as an adjunct to his business.

Thus was he when a mere boy launched on a successful business career.
His energy, since proved inexhaustible, soon began to open outward. When
about seventeen his attention was attracted to the village of Newmarket
as a desirable location for a drug store, and he seized an opportunity
to hire a store and stock it. His executive and financial ability were
strikingly honored in this venture. Having it in successful operation,
he called the second brother, John C. Lothrop, who about this time was
admitted to the firm, and left him in charge of the new establishment,
while he started a similar store at Meredith Bridge, now called Laconia.
The firm now consisted of the three brothers.

     "These three brothers have presented a most remarkable spirit of
     family union. Remarkable in that there was none of the drifting
     away from each other into perilous friendships and moneyed
     ventures. They held firmly to each other with a trust beyond words.
     The simple word of each was as good as a bond. And as early as
     possible they entered into an agreement that all three should
     combine fortunes, and, though keeping distinct kinds of business,
     should share equal profits under the firm name of 'D. Lothrop &
     Co.' For thirty-six years, through all the stress and strain of
     business life in this rushing age, their loyalty has been preserved
     strong and pure. Without a question or a doubt, there has been an
     absolute unity of interests, although James E., President of the
     Cocheco Bank, and Mayor of the city of Dover, is in one city, John
     C. in another, and Daniel in still another, and each having the
     particular direction of the business which his enterprise and
     sagacity has made extensive and profitable."[A]

[Footnote A: Rev. Dr. Quint.]

In 1850 occurred a point of fresh and important departure. The stock of
books held by Elijah Wadleigh, who had conducted a large and flourishing
book store in Dover, N.H., was purchased. Mr. Lothrop enlarged the
business, built up a good jobbing trade, and also quietly experimented
in publishing. The bookstore under his management also became something
more than a commercial success: it grew to be the centre for the bright
and educated people of the town, a favorite meeting place of men and
women alive to the questions of the day.

Now, arrived at the vigor of young manhood, Mr. Lothrop's aims and high
reaches began their more open unfoldment. He rapidly extended the
business into new and wide fields. He established branch stores at
Berwick, Portsmouth, Amesbury, and other places. In each of these
establishments books were prominently handled. While thus immediately
busy, Mr. Lothrop began his "studies" for his ultimate work. He did not
enter the publishing field without long surveys of investigation,
comparison and reflection. In need of that kind of vacation we call
"change of work and scene," Mr. Lothrop planned a western trip. The
bookstores in the various large cities on the route were sedulously
visited, and the tastes and the demands of the book trade were carefully
studied from many standpoints.

The vast possibilities of the Great West caught his attention and he
hastened to grasp his opportunities. At St. Peter, in Minnesota, he was
welcomed and resolved to locate. They needed such men as Mr. Lothrop to
help build the new town into a city. The opening of the St. Peter store
was characteristic of its young proprietor.

The extreme cold of October and November, 1856, prevented, by the early
freezing of the Upper Mississippi, the arrival of his goods. Having
contracted with the St. Peter company to erect a building, and open his
store on the first day of December, Mr. Lothrop, thinking that the goods
might have come as far as some landing place below St. Paul, went down
several hundred miles along the shore visiting the different landing
places. Failing to find them he bought the entire closing-out stock of a
drug store at St. Paul, and other goods necessary to a complete fitting
of his store, had them loaded, and with several large teams started for
St. Peter. The same day a blinding snow storm set in, making it
extremely difficult to find the right road, or indeed any road at all,
so that five days were spent in making a journey that in good weather
could have been accomplished in two. When within a mile of St. Peter the
Minnesota river was to be crossed, and it was feared the ice would not
bear the heavy teams; all was unloaded and moved on small sledges across
the river, and the drug store _was opened on the day agreed upon_. The
papers of that section made special mention of this achievement, saying
that it deserved honorable record, and that with such business
enterprise the prosperity of Minnesota Valley was assured.

He afterwards opened a banking house in St. Peter, of which his uncle,
Dr. Jeremiah Horne, was cashier; and in the book and drug store he
placed one of his clerks from the East, Mr. B.F. Paul, who is now one of
the wealthiest men of the Minnesota Valley. He also established two
other stores in the same section of country.

Various elements of good generalship came into play during Mr. Lothrop's
occupancy of this new field, not only in directing his extensive
business combinations in prosperous times, but in guiding all his
interests through the financial panic of 1857 and 1858. By the failure
of other houses and the change of capital from St. Peter to St. Paul,
Mr. Lothrop was a heavy loser, but by incessant labor and foresight he
squarely met each complication, promptly paid each liability in full.
But now he broke in health. The strain upon him had been intense, and
when all was well the tension relaxed, and making his accustomed visit
East to attend to his business interests in New England, without
allowing himself the required rest, the change of climate, together with
heavy colds taken on the journey, resulted in congestion of the lungs,
and prostration. Dr. Bowditch, after examination, said that the young
merchant had been doing the work of twenty years in ten. Under his
treatment Mr. Lothrop so far recovered that he was able to take a trip
to Florida, where the needed rest restored his health.

For the next five years our future publisher directed the lucrative
business enterprises which he had inaugurated, from the quiet book store
in Dover, N. H., while he carefully matured his plans for his life's
campaign--the publication, in many lines, of wholesome books for the
people. Soon after the close of the Civil war the time arrived for the
accomplishment of his designs, and he began by closing up advantageously
his various enterprises in order to concentrate his forces. His was no
ordinary equipment. Together with well-laid plans and inspirations, for
some of which the time is not yet due, and a rich birthright of
sagacity, insight and leadership, he possessed also a practical
experience of American book markets and the tastes of the people,
trained financial ability, practiced judgment, literary taste, and
literary conscience; and last, but not least, he had traversed and
mapped out the special field he proposed to occupy,--a field from which
he has never been diverted.

     "The foundations were solid. On these points Mr. Lothrop has had
     but one mind from the first: 'Never to publish a work purely
     sensational, no matter what chances of money it has in it;' 'to
     publish books that will make true, steadfast growth in right
     living.' Not alone right thinking, but right living. These were his
     two determinations, rigidly adhered to, notwithstanding constant
     advice, appeals, and temptations. His thoughts had naturally turned
     to the young people, knowing from his own self-made fortunes, how
     young men and women need help, encouragement and stimulus. He had
     determined to throw all his time, strength and money into making
     good books for the young people, who, with keen imaginations and
     active minds, were searching in all directions for mental food.
     'The best way to fight the evil in the world,' reasoned Mr.
     Lothrop, 'is to crowd it out with the good.' And therefore he bent
     the energies of his mind to maturing plans toward this object,--the
     putting good, helpful literature into their hands.

     His first care was to determine the channels through which he could
     address the largest audiences. The Sunday School library was one.
     In it he hoped to turn a strong current of pure, healthful
     literature for those young people who, dieting on the existing
     library books, were rendered miserable on closing their covers,
     either to find them dry or obsolete, or so sentimentally religious
     as to have nothing in their own practical lives corresponding to
     the situations of the pictured heroes and heroines.

     The family library was another channel. To make evident to the
     heads of households the paramount importance of creating a home
     library, Mr. Lothrop set himself to work with a will. In the spring
     of 1868 he invited to meet him a council of three gentlemen,
     eminent in scholarship, sound of judgment, and of large experience:
     the Reverend George T. Day, D. D., of Dover, N.H., Professor Heman
     Lincoln, D.D., of Newton Seminary, the Rev. J.E. Rankin, D.D., of
     Washington, D.C. Before them he laid his plans, matured and ready
     for their acceptance: to publish good, strong, attractive
     literature for the Sunday School, the home, the town, and school
     library, and that nothing should be published save of that
     character, asking their co-operation as readers of the several
     manuscripts to be presented for acceptance. The gentlemen, one and
     all, gave him their heartiest God-speed, but they frankly confessed
     it a most difficult undertaking, and that the step must be taken
     with the strong chance of failure. Mr. Lothrop had counted that
     chance and reaffirmed his purpose to become a publisher of just
     such literature, and imparted to them so much of his own courage
     that before they left the room, all stood engaged as salaried
     readers of the manuscripts to come in to the new publishing house
     of D. Lothrop & Co., and during all these years no manuscripts have
     been accepted without the sanction of one or more of these readers.

     The store, Nos. 38 and 40 Cornhill, Boston, was taken, and a
     complete refitting and stocking made it one of the finest
     bookstores of the city. The first book published was 'Andy
     Luttrell.' How many recall that first book! 'Andy Luttrell' was a
     great success, the press saying that 'the series of which this is
     the initiatory volume, marks a new era in Sunday School
     literature.' Large editions were called for, and it is popular
     still. In beginning any new business there are many difficulties to
     face, old established houses to compete with, and new ones to
     contest every inch of success. But tides turn, and patience and
     pluck won the day, until from being steady, sure and reliable, Mr.
     Lothrop's publishing business was increasing with such rapidity as
     to soon make it one of the solid houses of Boston. Mr. Lothrop had
     a remarkable instinct as regarded the discovering of new talent,
     and many now famous writers owe their popularity with the public to
     his kindness and courage in standing by them. He had great
     enthusiasm and success in introducing this new element, encouraging
     young writers, and creating a fresh atmosphere very stimulating and
     enjoyable to their audience. To all who applied for work or brought
     manuscript for examination, he had a hopeful word, and in rapid,
     clear expression smoothed the difficulty out of their path if
     possible, or pointed to future success as the result of patient
     toil. He always brought out the best that was in a person, having
     the rare quality of the union of perfect honesty with kind
     consideration. This new blood in the old veins of literary life,
     soon wrought a marvelous change in this class of literature. Mr.
     Lothrop had been wise enough to see that such would be the case,
     and he kept constantly on the lookout for all means that might
     foster ambition and bring to the surface latent talent. For this
     purpose he offered prizes of $1,000 and $500 for the best
     manuscripts on certain subjects. Such a thing had scarcely been
     heard of before and manuscripts flowed in, showing this to have
     been a happy thought. It is interesting to look back and find many
     of those young authors to be identical with names that are now
     famous in art and literature, then presenting with much fear and
     trembling, their first efforts.

     Mr. Lothrop considered no time, money, or strength ill-spent by
     which he could secure the wisest choice of manuscripts. As an
     evidence of his success, we name a few out of his large list: 'Miss
     Yonge's Histories;' 'Spare Minute Series,' most carefully edited
     from Gladstone, George MacDonald, Dean Stanley, Thomas Hughes,
     Charles Kingsley; 'Stories of American History;'' Lothrop's Library
     of Entertaining History,' edited by Arthur Gilman, containing
     Professor Harrison's 'Spain,' Mrs. Clement's 'Egypt,'
     'Switzerland,' 'India,' etc.; 'Library of famous Americans, 1st and
     2d series; George MacDonald's novels--Mr. Lothrop, while on a visit
     to Europe, having secured the latest novels by this author in
     manuscript, thus bringing them out in advance of any other
     publisher in this country or abroad, now issues his entire works in
     uniform style: 'Miss Yonge's Historical Stories;' 'Illustrated
     Wonders;' The Pansy Books,' of world-wide circulation;' 'Natural
     History Stories;' 'Poet's Homes Series;' S.G.W. Benjamin's
     'American Artists;' 'The Reading Union Library,' 'Business Boy's
     Library,' library edition of 'The Odyssey,' done in prose by
     Butcher and Lang; 'Jowett's Thucydides;' 'Rosetti's Shakspeare,' on
     which nothing has been spared to make it the most complete for
     students and family use, and many others.

     Mr. Lothrop is constantly broadening his field in many directions,
     gathering the rich thought of many men of letters, science and
     theology among his publications. Such writers as Professor James H.
     Harrison, Arthur Gilman, and Rev. E.E. Hale are allies of the
     house, constantly working with it to the development of pure
     literature; the list of the authors and contributors being so long
     as to include representatives of all the finest thinkers of the
     day. Elegant art gift books of poem, classic and romance, have been
     added with wise discrimination, until the list embraces sixteen
     hundred books, out of which last year were printed and sold
     1,500,000 volumes.

     The great fire of 1872 brought loss to Mr. Lothrop among the many
     who suffered. Much of the hard-won earnings of years of toil was
     swept away in that terrible night. About two weeks later, a large
     quantity of paper which had been destroyed during the great fire
     had been replaced, and the printing of the same was in process at
     the printing house of Rand, Avery & Co., when a fire broke out
     there, destroying this second lot of paper, intended for the first
     edition of sixteen volumes of the celebrated $1,000 prize books. A
     third lot of paper was purchased for these books and sent to the
     Riverside Press without delay. The books were at last printed, as
     many thousand readers can testify, an enterprise that called out
     from the Boston papers much commendation, adding, in one instance:
     'Mr. Lothrop seems _warmed_ up to his work.'

     When the time was ripe, another form of Mr. Lothrop's plans for the
     creation of a great popular literature was inaugurated. We refer to
     the projection of his now famous 'Wide Awake,' a magazine into
     which he has thrown a large amount of money. Thrown it, expecting
     to wait for results. And they have begun to come. 'Wide Awake' now
     stands abreast with the finest periodicals in our country, or
     abroad. In speaking of 'Wide Awake' the Boston Herald says: 'No
     such marvel of excellence could be reached unless there were
     something beyond the strict calculations of money-making to push
     those engaged upon it to such magnificent results.' Nothing that
     money can do is spared for its improvement. Withal, it is the most
     carefully edited of all magazines; Mr. Lothrop's strict
     determination to that effect, having placed wise hands at the helm
     to co-operate with him. Our best people have found this out. The
     finest writers in this country and in Europe are giving of their
     best thought to filling its pages, the most celebrated artists are
     glad to work for it. Scientific men, professors, clergymen, and all
     heads of households give in their testimony of its merits as a
     family magazine, while the young folks are delighted with it. The
     fortune of 'Wide Awake' is sure. Next Mr. Lothrop proceeded to
     supply the babies with their own especial magazine. Hence came
     bright, winsome, sparkling 'Babyland.' The mothers caught at the
     idea. 'Babyland' jumped into success in an incredibly short space
     of time. The editors of 'Wide Awake,' Mr. and Mrs. Pratt, edit this
     also, which ensures it as safe, wholesome and sweet to put into
     baby's hands. The intervening spaces between 'Babyland' and 'Wide
     Awake' Mr. Lothrop soon filled with 'Our Little Men and Women,' and
     'The Pansy.' Urgent solicitations from parents and teachers who
     need a magazine for those little folks, either at home or at
     school, who were beginning to read and spell, brought out the
     first, and Mrs. G.R. Alden (Pansy) taking charge of a weekly
     pictorial paper of that name, was the reason for the beginning and
     growth of the second. The 'Boston Book Bulletin,' a quarterly, is a
     medium for acquaintance with the best literature, its prices, and
     all news current pertaining to it.

     [Illustration: Exterior View Of D. Lothrop & Co.'s Publishing
     House.]

     [Illustration: Interior View Of D. Lothrop & Co.'s Publishing
     House]

     'The Chatauqua Young Folk's Journal' is the latest addition to the
     sparkling list. This periodical was a natural growth of the modern
     liking for clubs, circles, societies, reading unions, home studies,
     and reading courses. It is the official voice of the Chatauqua
     Young Folks Reading Union, and furnishes each year a valuable and
     vivacious course of readings on topics of interest to youth. It is
     used largely in schools. Its contributors are among our leading
     clergymen, lawyers, university professors, critics, historians and
     scientists, but all its literature is of a popular character,
     suited to the family circle rather than the study. Mr. Lothrop now
     has the remarkable success of seeing six flourishing periodicals
     going forth from his house.

     In 1875, Mr. Lothrop, finding his Cornhill quarters inaquate [sic],
     leased the elegant building corner Franklin and Hawley streets,
     belonging to Harvard College, for a term of years. The building is
     120 feet long by 40 broad, making the salesroom, which is on the
     first floor, one of the most elegant in the country. On the second
     floor are Mr. Lothrop's offices, also the editorial offices of
     'Wide Awake,' etc. On the third floor are the composing rooms and
     mailing rooms of the different periodicals, while the bindery fills
     the fourth floor.

     This building also was found small; it could accommodate only
     one-fourth of the work done, and accordingly a warehouse on
     Purchase street was leased for storing and manufacturing purposes.

     In 1879 Mr. Lothrop called to his assistance a younger brother, Mr.
     M.H. Lothrop, who had already made a brilliant business record in
     Dover, N.H., to whom he gives an interest in the business. All who
     care for the circulation of the best literature will be glad to
     know that everything indicates the work to be steadily increasing
     toward complete development of Mr. Lothrop's life-long purpose."[A]

[Footnote A: _The Paper World_.]

This man of large purposes and large measures has, of course, his sturdy
friends, his foes as sturdy. He has, without doubt, an iron will. He is,
without doubt, a good fighter--a wise counselor. Approached by fraud he
presents a front of granite; he cuts through intrigue with sudden,
forceful blows. It is true that the sharp bargainer, the overreaching
buyer he worsts and puts to confusion and loss without mercy. But, no
less, candor and honor meet with frankness and generous dealing. He is
as loyal to a friend as to a purpose. His interest in one befriended and
taken into trust is for life. It has been more than once said of this
immovable business man that he has the simple heart of a boy.

Mr. Lothrop's summer home is in Concord, Mass. His house, known to
literary pilgrims of both continents as "The Wayside," is a unique, many
gabled old mansion, situated near the road at the base of a pine-covered
hill, facing broad, level fields, and commanding a view of charming
rural scenery. Its dozen green acres are laid out in rustic paths; but
with the exception of the removal of unsightly underbrush, the landscape
is left in a wild and picturesque state. Immediately in the rear of the
house, however, A. Bronson Alcott, a former occupant, planned a series
of terraces, and thereon is a system of trees. The house was commenced
in the seventeenth century and has been added to at different periods,
and withal is quaint enough to satisfy the most exacting antiquarian. At
the back rise the more modern portions, and the tower, wherein was woven
the most delightful of American romances, and about which cluster tender
memories of the immortal Hawthorne. The boughs of the whispering pines
almost touch the lofty windows.

The interior of the dwelling is seemly. It corresponds with the various
eras of its construction. The ancient low-posted rooms with their large
open fire-places, in which the genial hickory crackles and glows as in
the olden time, have furnishings and appointments in harmony. The more
modern apartments are charming, the whole combination making a most
delightful country house.

Mr. Lothrop's enjoyment of art and his critical appreciation is
illustrated here as throughout his publications, his house being adorned
with many exquisite and valuable original paintings from the studios of
modern artists; and there is, too, a certain literary fitness that his
home should be in this most classic spot, and that the mistress of this
home should be a lady of distinguished rank in literature, and that the
fair baby daughter of the house should wear for her own the name her
mother has made beloved in thousands of American and English households.

[Illustration: "The Wayside."]

       *       *       *       *       *

New England Conservatory of Music.

[Illustration: New England CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC Franklin Square Boston]

By MRS. M.J. DAVIS.


One of the most important questions now occupying the minds of the
world's deepest and best thinkers, is the intellectual, physical, moral,
and political position of woman.

Men are beginning to realize a fact that has been evident enough for
ages: that the current of civilization can never rise higher than the
springs of motherhood. Given the ignorant, debased mothers of the
Turkish harem, and the inevitable result is a nation destitute of truth,
honor or political position. All the power of the Roman legions, all the
wealth of the imperial empire, could not save the throne of the Cęsars
when the Roman matron was shorn of her honor, and womanhood became only
the slave or the toy of its citizens. Men have been slow to grasp the
fact that women are a "true constituent of the bone and sinew of
society," and as such should be trained to bear the part of "bone and
sinew." It has been finely said, "that as times have altered and
conditions varied, the respect has varied in which woman has been held.
At one time condemned to the field and counted with the cattle, at
another time condemned to the drawing-room and inventoried with marbles,
oils and water-colors; but only in instances comparatively rare,
acknowledged and recognized in the fullness of her moral and
intellectual possibilities, and in the beauteous completeness of her
personal dignity, prowess and obligation."

[Illustration: The Library Reading Room]

[Illustration: Art Department Painting]

Various and widely divergent as opinions are in regard to woman's place
in the political sphere, there is fast coming to be unanimity of thought
in regard to her intellectual development. Even in Turkey, fathers are
beginning to see that their daughters are better, not worse, for being
able to read and, write, and civilization is about ready to concede that
the intellectual, physical and moral possibilities of woman are to be
the only limits to her attainment. Vast strides in the direction of the
higher and broader education of women have been made in the quarter of a
century since John Vassar founded on the banks of the Hudson the noble
college for women that bears his name; and others have been found who
have lent willing hands to making broad the highway that leads to an
ideal womanhood. Wellesley and Smith, as well as Vassar find their
limits all too small for the throngs of eager girlhood that are pressing
toward them. The Boston University, honored in being first to open
professional courses to women, Michigan University, the New England
Conservatory, the North Western University of Illinois, the Wesleyan
Universities, both of Connecticut and Ohio, with others of the colleges
of the country, have opened their doors and welcomed women to an equal
share with men, in their advantages. And in the shadow of Oxford, on the
Thames, and of Harvard, on the Charles, womanly minds are growing,
womanly lives are shaping, and womanly patience is waiting until every
barrier shall be removed, and all the green fields of learning shall be
so free that whosoever will may enter.

[Illustration: Art Department Modeling]

[Illustration: Tuning Department]

Among the foremost of the great educational institutions of the day, the
New England Conservatory of Music takes rank, and its remarkable
development and wonderful growth tends to prove that the youth of the
land desire the highest advantages that can be offered them. More than
thirty years ago the germ of the idea that is now embodied in this great
institution, found lodgment in the brain of the man who has devoted his
life to its development. Believing that music had a positive influence
upon the elevation of the world hardly dreamed of as yet even by its
most devoted students, Eben Tourjee returned to America from years of
musical study in the great Conservatories of Europe. Knowing from
personal observation the difficulties that lie in the way of American
students, especially of young and inexperienced girls who seek to obtain
a musical education abroad, battling as they must, not only with foreign
customs and a foreign language, but exposed to dangers, temptations and
disappointments, he determined to found in America a music school that
should be unsurpassed in the world. Accepting the judgment of the great
masters, Mendelsshon, David, and Joachim, that the conservatory system
was the best possible system of musical instruction, doing for music
what a college of liberal arts does for education in general, Dr.
Tourjee in 1853, with what seems to have been large and earnest faith,
and most entire devotion, took the first public steps towards the
accomplishment of his purpose. During the long years his plan developed
step by step. In 1870 the institution was chartered under its present
name in Boston. In 1881 its founder deeded to it his entire personal
property, and by a deed of trust gave the institution into the hands of
a Board of Trustees to be perpetuated forever as a Christian Music
School.

[Illustration: The Dining Hall]

In the carrying out of his plan to establish and equip an institution
that should give the highest musical culture, Dr. Tourjee has been
compelled, in order that musicians educated here should not be narrow,
one-sided specialists only, but that they should be cultured men and
women, to add department after department, until to-day under the same
roof and management there are well equipped schools of Music, Art,
Elocution, Literature, Languages, Tuning, Physical Culture, and a home
with the safeguards of a Christian family life for young women students.

[Illustration: _The Cabinet_]

When, in 1882, the institution moved from Music Hall to its present
quarters in Franklin Square, in what was the St. James Hotel, it became
possessed of the largest and best equipped conservatory buildings in the
world. It has upon its staff of seventy-five teachers, masters from the
best schools of Europe. During the school year ending June 29, 1884,
students coming from forty-one states and territories of the Union, from
the British Provinces, from England and from the Sandwich Islands, have
received instruction there. The growth of this institution, due in such
large measure to the courage and faith of one man, has been remarkable,
and it stands to-day self-supporting, without one dollar of endowment,
carrying on alone its noble work, an institution of which Boston,
Massachusetts and America may well be proud. From the first its
invitation has been without limitation. It began with a firm belief that
"what it is in the nature of a man or woman to become, is a Providential
indication of what God wants it to become, by improvement and
development," and it offered to men and women alike the same advantages,
the same labor, and the same honor. It is working out for itself the
problem of co-education, and it has never had occasion to take one
backward step in the part it has chosen. Money by the millions has been
poured out upon the schools and colleges of the land, and not one dollar
too much has been given, for the money that educates is the money that
saves the nation.

Among those who have been made stewards of great wealth some liberal
benefactor should come forward in behalf of this great school, that, by
eighteen years of faithful living, has proved its right to live. Its
founder says of it: "The institution has not yet compassed my thought of
it." Certainly it has not reached its possibilities of doing good. It
needs a hall in which its concerts and lectures can be given, and in
which the great organ of Music Hall, may be placed. It needs that its
chapel, library, studios, gymnasium and recitation rooms should be
greatly enlarged to meet the actual demands now made upon them. It needs
what other institutions have needed and received, a liberal endowment,
to enable it, with them, to meet and solve the great question of the
day, the education of the people.

[Illustration: New England Conservatory of Music Boston]

       *       *       *       *       *


SKETCH OF SAUGUS.

By E.P. ROBINSON.


Saugus lies about eight miles northeast of Boston. It was incorporated
as an independent town February 17, 1815, and was formerly a part of
Lynn, which once bore the name of Saugus, being an Indian name, and
signifies great or extended. It has a taxable area of 5,880 acres, and
its present population may be estimated at about 2,800, living in 535
houses. The former boundary between Lynn and Suffolk County ran through
the centre of the "Boardman House," in what is now Saugus, and standing
near the line between Melrose and Saugus, and is one of the oldest
houses in the town. It has forty miles of accepted streets and roads,
which are proverbial as being kept in the very best condition. Its
public buildings are a Town Hall, a wooden structure, of Gothic
architecture, with granite steps and underpining, and has a seating
capacity of seven hundred and eighty persons. It is considered to be the
handsomest wooden building in Essex County, and cost $48,000. The High
School is accommodated within its walls, and beside offices for the
various boards of town officers; on the lower floor it has a room for a
library. The upper flight has an auditorium with ante-rooms at the front
and rear, a balcony at the front, seats one hundred and eighty persons,
and a platform on the stage at the rear. It was built in 1874-5. The
building committee were E.P. Robinson, Gilbert Waldron, J.W. Thomas,
H.B. Newhall, Wilbur F. Newhall, Augustus B. Davis, George N. Miller,
George H. Hull, Louis P. Hawkes, William F. Hitchings, E.E. Wilson,
Warren P. Copp, David Knox, A. Brad. Edmunds and Henry Sprague. E.P.
Robinson was chosen chairman and David Knox secretary. The architects
were Lord & Fuller of Boston, and the work of building was put under
contract to J.H. Kibby & Son of Chelsea.

The town also owns seven commodious schoolhouses, in which are
maintained thirteen schools--one High, three Grammar, three
Intermediate, three Primaries, one sub-Primary and two mixed schools,
the town appropriating the sum of six thousand dollars therefor. There
are five Churches--Congregational, Universalist, and three Methodist,
besides two societies worshiping in halls (the St. John's Episcopal
Mission and the Union at North Saugus). After the schism in the old
Third Parish about 1809, the religious feud between the Trinitarians and
the Unitarians became so intense that a lawsuit was had to obtain the
fund, the Universalists retaining possession. The Trinitarians then
built the old stone Church, under the direction of Squire Joseph Eames,
which, as a piece of architecture, did not reflect much credit on
builder or architect. It is now used as a grocery and post office; their
present place of worship was built in 1852. The Church edifice of the
old Third was erected in 1738, and was occupied without change until
1859, when it was sold and moved off the spot, and the site is now
marked by a flag staff and band stand, known as Central Square. The old
Church was moved a short distance and converted into tenements, with a
store underneath. The Universalist society built their present Church
in 1860. The town farm consists of some 280 acres, and has a fine wood
lot of 240 acres, the remainder being valuable tillage, costing in 1823
$4,625.

The town is rich in local history and has either produced or been the
residence of a number of notable men and women.

[Illustration: M.E. CHURCH, CLIFTONDALE.]

Judge William Tudor, the father of the ice business, now so colossal in
its proportions, started the trade here, living on what is now the poor
farm. The Saugus Female Seminary once held quite a place in literary
circles, Cornelius C. Felton, afterward president of Harvard College,
being its "chore boy" (the remains of his parents lie in the cemetery
near by). Fanny Fern, the sister of N.P. Willis, the wife of James
Parton, the celebrated biographer, as well as two sisters of Dr.
Alexander Vinton, pursued their studies here, together with Miss Flint,
who married Honorable Daniel P. King, member of Congress for the Essex
District, and Miss Dustin, who became the wife of Eben Sutton, and who
has been so devoted and interested in the library of the Peabody
Institute. Mr. Emerson, the preceptor, was for a time the pastor of the
Third Parish of Lynn (now Saugus Universalist society), where Parson
Roby preached for a period of fifty-three years--more than half a
century, with a devotion and fidelity that greatly endeared him to his
people. In passing we give the items of his salary as voted him in 1747,
taken from the records of the Parish, being kindly furnished by the
Clerk, Mr. W.F. Hitchings: "A suitable house and barn, standing in a
suitable place; pasturing and sufficient warter meet for two Cows and
one horse--the winter meet put in his barn; the improvement of two acres
of land suitable to plant and to be kept well fenced; sixty pounds in
lawful silver money, at six shillings and eight pence per ounce; twenty
cords of wood at his Dore, and the Loose Contributions; and also the
following artikles, or so much money as will purchase them, viz: Sixty
Bushels Indian Corn, forty-one Bushels of Rye, Six hundred pounds wait
of Pork and Eight Hundred and Eighty Eight pounds wait of Beefe."

This would be considered a pretty liberal salary even now for a suburban
people to pay. From the records of his parish it would seem he always
enjoyed the love and confidence of his people, and was sincerely mourned
by them at his death, which occurred January 31, 1803, at the advanced
age of eighty years, and as stated above in the fifty-third year of his
ministry. Among other good works and mementoes which he left behind him
was the "Roby Elm," set out with his own hand, and which is now more
than one hundred and twenty-five years old. It is in an excellent state
of preservation, and with its perfectly conical shape at the top,
attracts marked attention from all lovers and observers of trees. Among
the names of worthy citizens who have impressed themselves upon the
memory of their survivors, either as business men of rare executive
ability, or as merchants of strict integrity, or scholars and men of
literary genius, lawyers, artists, writers, poets, and men of inventive
genius, we will first mention as eldest on the list "Landlord" Jacob
Newhall, who used to keep a tavern in the east part of the town and gave
"entertainment to man and beast" passing between Boston and Salem,
notably so to General Washington on his journey from Boston to Salem in
1797, and later to the Marquis De Lafayette in 1824, when making a
similar journey. We also mention Zaccheus Stocker, Jonathan Makepeace,
Charles Sweetser, Dr. Abijah Cheever, Benjamin F. Newhall and Benjamin
Hitchings. These last all held town office with great credit to
themselves and their constituents.

Benjamin F. Newhall was a man of versatile parts. Beside writing rhymes
he preached the Gospel, and was at one time County Commissioner for
Essex County.

To these may be added Salmon Snow, who held the office of Selectman for
several years, and also kept the poor of Saugus for many years with
great acceptance. He was a man of good judgment, strong in his likes and
dislikes, and bitter in his resentments. George Henry Sweetser was also
a Selectman for years, and was elected to the Legislature for both
branches, being Senator for two terms. Frederick Stocker, noted as a
manufacturer of brick, was also a man of sterling qualities, and shared
in the confidence and esteem of his fellow citizens. Joseph Stocker
Newhall, a manufacturer of roundings in sole leather, was a just man, of
positive views, and although interesting himself in the political issues
of the day would not take office. Eminently social he was at times
somewhat abrupt and laconic in denouncing what he conceived to be shams.
As a manufacturer his motto was, "the laborer is worthy of his hire." He
died in 1875, aged 67 years. George Pearson was Treasurer of the town
and one of the Selectmen, and also Treasurer and Deacon of the Orthodox
parish for twenty-five years, living to the advanced age of eighty-seven
years. He died in 1883.

Later, about 1837, Edward Pranker, an Englishman, and Francis Scott, a
Scotchman, became noted for their woollen factories, which they built in
Saugus, and also became residents here for the rest of their lives.
Enoch Train, too, a Boston ship merchant and founder of the famous line
of packets between Boston and Liverpool for the transportation of
emigrants, passed the last ten years of his life here, marrying Mrs.
Almira Cheever. He was the father of Mrs. A.D.T. Whitney, the author of
many works of fiction, which have been widely read; among them "Faith
Gartney's Girlhood," "Odd or Even," "Sights and Insights," etc. In this
connection we point to a living novelist of Saugus, Miss Ella Thayer,
whose "Wired Lore" has been through several editions. George William
Phillips, brother of Wendell, a lawyer of some note, also lived many
years at Saugus and died in 1878. Joseph Ames, the artist, celebrated
for his portraits, who was commissioned by the Catholics to visit Rome
and paint Pope Pius IX., and who executed in a masterly manner other
commissions, such as Rufus Choate, Daniel Webster, Abraham Lincoln,
Madames Rachael and Ristori, learned the art in Saugus, though born in
Roxbury, N.H. He died at New York while temporarily painting there, but
was buried in Saugus in 1874. His brother Nathan was a patent solicitor,
and considered an expert in such matters, and invented several useful
machines. He was also a writer of both prose and poetry, writing among
other books "Pirate's Glen," "Dungeon Rock" and "Childe Harold." He died
in 1860.

Rev. Fales H. Newhall, D.D., who was Professor of Languages at
Middletown College, and who, as a writer, speaker or preacher, won
merited distinction, died in 1882, lamented that his light should go
prematurely out at the early age of 56 years.

Henry Newhall, who went from Saugus to San Francisco, and there became a
millionaire, may be spoken of as a succesful business man and merchant.
The greatest instance of longevity since the incorporation of the town
was that of Joseph Cheever, who was born February 22, 1772, and died
June 19, 1872, aged 100 years, 4 months, 27 days. He was a farmer of
great energy, industry and will power, and was given to much litigation.
He, too, represented the town in 1817-18, 1820-21, 1831-32, and again in
1835.

Saugus, too, was the scene of the early labors of Rev. Edward T. Taylor,
familiarly known as Father Taylor. Here he learned to read, and preached
his first sermon at what was then known as the "Rock Schoolhouse," at
East Saugus, though converted at North Saugus. Mrs. Sally Sweetser, a
pious lady, taught him his letters, and Mrs. Jonathan Newhall used to
read to him the chapter in the Bible from which he was to preach until
he had committed it to memory.

North Saugus is a fine agricultural section with table land, pleasant
and well watered, well adapted to farming purposes, and it was here that
Adam Hawkes, the first of this name in this county, settled with his
five sons in 1630, and took up a large tract of land. He built his house
on a rocky knoll, the spot being at the intersection of the road leading
from Saugus to Lynnfield with the Newburyport turnpike, known as Hawkes'
Corner. This house being burned the bricks of the old chimney were put
into another, and when again this chimney was taken down a few years ago
there were found bricks with the date of 1601 upon them. This shows,
evidently, that the bricks were brought from England. This property is
now in the hands of one of his lineal descendants, Louis P. Hawkes,
having been handed down from sire to son for more than 250 years. On the
28th and 29th of July, 1880, a family reunion of the descendents of Adam
Hawkes was held to celebrate the 250th anniversary of his advent to the
soil of Saugus. It was a notable meeting, and brought together the
members of this respected and respectable family from Maine to
California. Two large tents were spread and the trees and buildings were
decorated with flags and mottoes in an appropriate and tasteful manner.
Judges, Generals, artists, poets, clergymen, lawyers, farmers and
mechanics were present to participate in the re-union. Addresses were
made, poems suitable to the occasion rendered, and all passed off in a
most creditable manner. Among the antique and curious documents in the
possession of Samuel Hawkes was the "division of the estate of Adam
Hawkes, made March 27, 1672."

Mrs. Dinsmore resided in this part of the town. A most amiable woman, a
good nurse, kind in sickness, and it was in this way that she discovered
a most valuable medicine. Her specific is claimed to be very efficacious
in cases of croup and kindred diseases, and its use in such cases has
become very general, as well as for headache. She is almost as widely
known as Lydia Pinkham. She died in 1881.

[Illustration: MRS. DINSMORE.]

Saugus nobly responded to the call for troops to put down the rebellion,
furnishing a large contingent for Company K, Seventeenth Massachusetts
Volunteers, which was recruited almost wholly from Malden and Saugus,
under command of Captain Simonds of Malden. Thirty-six Saugus men also
enlisted in Company A, Fortieth Massachusetts Volunteers, while quite a
number joined the gallant Nineteenth Regiment, Col. E.W. Hinks, whose
name Post 95, G.A.R., of Saugus bears, which is a large and flourishing
organization. There were many others who enlisted in various other
regiments, beside those who served in the navy.

[Illustration: NINETEENTH REGIMENT BADGE.]

Charles A. Newhall of this town is secretary and treasurer of the
Nineteenth Regiment association, whose survivors still number nearly one
hundred members.


THE OLD IRON WORKS.

These justly celebrated works, the first of their kind in this country,
were situated on the west bank of the Saugus river, about one-fourth of
a mile north of the Town Hall, on the road leading to Lynnfield, and
almost immediately opposite the mansion of A.A. Scott, Esq., the present
proprietor of the woolen mills which are located just above, the site of
the old works being still marked by a mound of scoria and debris, the
locality being familiarly known as the "Cinder Banks." Iron ore was
discovered in the vicinity of these works at an early period, but no
attempt was made to work it until 1643. The Braintree iron works, for
which some have claimed precedence, were not commenced until 1647, in
that part of the town known as Quincy.

Among the artisans who found employment and scope for their mechanical
skill at these works was Mr. Joseph Jenks who, when the colonial mint
was started to coin the "Pine Tree Shilling," made the die for the first
impressions at the Iron works at Saugus.

The old house, formerly belonging to the Thomas Hudson estate of
sixty-nine acres first purchased by the Iron Works, is still standing,
and is probably one of the oldest in Essex County, although it has
undergone so many repairs that it is something like the boy's
jack-knife, which belonged to his grandfather and had received three new
blades and two new handles since he had known it. One of the
fire-places, with all its modernizing, a few years ago measured about
thirteen feet front, and its whole contour is yet unique. It is now
owned by A.A. Scott and John B. Walton.

Near Pranker's Pond, on Appleton street, is a singular rock resembling a
pulpit. This portion of the town is known as the Calemount.

There is a legend of the Colonial period that a man by the name of
Appleton harangued or preached to the people of the vicinity, urging
them to stand by the Republican cause, hence the name of "Pulpit Rock."
The name "Calemount" also comes, according to tradition, from the fact
that one of the people named Caleb Appleton, who had become obnoxious to
the party, had agreed upon a signal with his wife and intimate friends,
that, when in danger, they should notify him by this expressive warning,
"Cale, mount!" upon which he would take refuge in the rocky mountain,
which, being then densely wooded, afforded a secure hiding place.
Several members of this family of Appletons have since, during
successive generations, been distinguished and well known citizens of
Boston, one of whom, William Appleton, was elected to Congress over
Anson Burlingame, in 1860.

Recently, one of the descendants of this family has had a tablet of
copper securely bolted to the rock with the following inscription:--

     "APPLETON'S PULPIT!

     In September, 1687, from this rock tradition asserts that resisting
     the tyranny of Sir Edmond Andros, Major Samuel Appleton of Ipswich
     spake to the people in behalf of those principles which later were
     embodied in the declaration of Independence."

This tablet was formally presented to the town by letter from the late
Thomas Appleton, at the annual March meeting in 1882, and its care
assumed by the town of Saugus.

Among the present industries of Saugus are Pranker's Mills, a joint
stock corporation, doing business under the style of Edward Pranker &
Co., for the manufacture of woollen goods, employing about one hundred
operatives, and producing about 1,800,000 yards of cloth annually--red,
white and yellow flannel. The mill of A.A. Scott is just below on the
same stream, making the same class of goods, with a much smaller
production, both companies being noted for the standard quality of their
fabrics. The spice and coffee mills of Herbert B. Newhall at East Saugus
do a large business in their line, and his goods go all over New England
and the West.

Charles S. Hitchings, at Saugus, turns out some 1,500 cases of
hand-made slippers of fine quality for the New York and New England
trade. Otis M. Burrill, in the same line, is making the same kind of
work, some 150 cases, Hiram Grover runs a stitching factory with steam
power, and employs a large number of employees, mostly females.

Win. E. Shaw also makes paper boxes and cartoons, and does quite a
business for Lynn manufacturers.

[Illustration: RESIDENCE OF RUFUS A. JOHNSON.]

Enoch T. Kent at Saugus and his brother, Edward S. Kent, at Cliftondale,
are engaged in washing crude hair and preparing it for plastering and
other purposes, such as curled hair, hair cloth, blankets, etc. They
each give employment to quite a number of men. Albert H. Sweetser makes
snuff, succeeding to the firm of Sweetser Bros., who did an extensive
business until after the war. The demand for this kind of goods is more
limited than formerly. Joseph. A. Raddin, manufactures the crude tobacco
from the leaf into chewing and smoking tobacco. Edward O. Copp, Martha
Fiske, William Parker and a few others still manufacture cigars.

Quite an, extensive ice business is done at Saugus by Solon V. Edmunds
and Stephen Stackpole. A few years ago Eben Edmunds shipped by the
Eastern Railroad some 1,200 tons to Gloucester, but the shrinkage and
wastage of the ice by delays on the train did not render it a profitable
operation.

The strawberry culture has recently become quite a feature in the
producing industry of Saugus. In 1884 Elbridge S. Upham marketed 3,600
boxes, Charles S. Hitchings 1,200, Warren P. Copp 400, and others,
Martin Carnes, Calvin Locke, Edward Saunders and Lorenzo Mansfield, more
or less.

John W. Blodgett and the Hatch Bros. do a large business in early and
late vegetables for Boston and Lynn markets, such as asparagus, spinach,
etc., and employ quite a number of men.

Nor must we forget to mention the milk business. Louis P. Hawkes has a
herd of some forty cows and has a milk route at Lynn. J.W. Blodgett
keeps twenty-five cows, and takes his milk to market. Geo. N. Miller and
T.O.W. Houghton also keep cows and have a route. Joshua Kingsbury,
George H. Pearson and George Ames have a route, buying their milk. Byron
Hone keeps fifty cows. Dudley Fiske has twenty-five, selling their milk.
O.M. Hitchings, H. Burns, A.B. Davis, Lewis Austin, Richard Hawkes and
others keep from seven to twelve cows for dairy purposes.

[Illustration: RESIDENCE OF CHARLES H. BOND.]

Having somewhat minutely noticed the industries we will speak briefly of
some of the dwellings. The elegant mansion and gardens of Brainard and
Henry George, Harmon Hall and Rufus A. Johnson of East Saugus, and Eli
Barrett, A.A. Scott and E.E. Wilson of Saugus, C.A. Sweetser, C.H. Bond
and Pliny Nickerson at Cliftondale, with their handsome lawns, rich and
rare flowers and noble shade trees attract general attention. The last
mentioned estate was formerly owned by a brother of Governor William
Eustis, where his Excellency used to spend a portion of his time each
year.

At the south-westerly part of the town, not far from the old Eustis
estate, the boundaries of three counties and four towns intersect with
each other, viz: Suffolk, Essex and Middlesex counties, and the towns of
Revere, Saugus, Melrose and Maiden. Near by, too, is the old Boynton
estate, and the Franklin Trotting park, where some famous trotting was
had, when Dr. Smith managed it in 1866-7, Flora Temple, Fashion, Lady
Patchen and other noted horses contending. After a few years of use it
was abandoned, but it has recently been fitted up by Marshall Abbott of
Lynn, and several trots have taken place the present summer.

[Illustration: TOWN HALL.]

The Boynton estate above referred to is divided by a small brook, known
as "Bride's Brook," which is also the dividing line between Saugus and
Revere, and the counties of Suffolk and Essex. Tradition asserts that
many years ago a couple were married here, the groom standing on one
side and the bride on the other; hence the name "Bride's Brook."

The existence of iron ore used for the manufacturing at the old Iron
Works was well known, and there have been many who have believed that
antimony also exists in large quantities in Saugus, but its precise
location has as yet not become known to the public.

As early as the year 1848, a man by the name of Holden, who was given to
field searching and prospecting, frequently brought specimens to the
late Benjamin F. Newhall and solemnly affirmed that he obtained them
from the earth and soil within the limits of Saugus. Every means was
used to induce him to divulge the secret of its locality. But Holden was
wary and stolidly refused to disclose or share the knowledge of the
place of the lode with anyone. He averred that he was going to make his
fortune by it. Detectives were put upon his trail in his roaming about
the fields, but he managed to elude all efforts at discovery. Being an
intemperate man, one cold night after indulging in his cups, he was
found by the roadside stark and stiff. Many rude attempts and imperfect
searches have been made upon the assurances of Holden to discover the
existence of antimony, but thus far in vain, and the supposed suppressed
secret of the existence of it in Saugus died with him.

"Pirate's Glen" is also within the territory of Saugus, while "Dungeon
Rock," another romantic locality, described by Alonzo Lewis in his
history of Lynn, is just over the line in that city. There is a popular
tradition that the pirates buried their treasure at the foot of a
certain hemlock tree in the glen, also the body of a beautiful female.
The rotten stump of a tree may still be seen, and a hollow beside it,
where people have dug in searching for human bones and treasure. This
glen is highly romantic and is one of the places of interest to which
all strangers visiting Saugus are conducted, and is invested with
somewhat of the supernatural tales of Captain Kid and treasure trove.

There is a fine quarry or ledge of jasper located in the easterly part
of the town, near Saugus River, just at the foot of the conical-shaped
elevation known as "Round Hill." which Professor Hitchcock, in his last
geological survey, pronounced to be the best specimen in the state. Mrs.
Hitchcock, an artist, who accompanied her husband in his surveying tour,
delineated from this eminence, looking toward Nahant and Egg Rock, which
is full in view, and from which steamers may be seen with a glass
plainly passing in and out of Boston harbor. The scenery and drives
about Saugus are delightful, especially beautiful is the view and
landscape looking from the "Cinder Banks," so-called, down Saugus river
toward Lynn.


REPRESENTATIVES FROM SAUGUS SINCE THE TOWN WAS INCORPORATED.

Saugus, (formerly the West Parish of Lynn), was formed in the year 1815,
and the town was first represented by Mr. Robert Emes in 1816. Mr. Emes
carried on morocco dressing, his business being located on Saugus river,
on the spot now occupied by Scott's Flannel Mills.

In 1817-18 Mr. Joseph Cheever represented the town, and again in
1820-21; also, in 1831-32, and again, for the last time, in 1835. After
having served the town seven times in the legislature, he seems to have
quietly retired from political affairs.

In 1822 Dr. Abijah Cheever was the Representative, and again in 1829-30.
The doctor held a commission as surgeon in the army at the time of our
last war with Great Britain. He was a man very decided in his manners,
had a will of his own, and liked to have people respect it.

In 1823 Mr. Jonathan Makepeace was elected. His business was the
manufacture of snuff, at the old mills in the eastern part of the town,
now owned by Sweetser Brothers, and known as the Sweetser Mills.

In 1826-28 Mr. John Shaw was the Representative.

In 1827 Mr. William Jackson was elected.

In 1833-34 Mr. Zaccheus N. Stocker represented the town. Mr. Stocker
held various offices, and looked very closely after the interests of the
town.

In 1837-38 Mr. William W. Boardman was the Representative. He has filled
a great many offices in the town.

In 1839 Mr. Charles Sweetser was elected, and again in 1851. Mr.
Sweetser was largely engaged in the manufacture of snuff and cigars. He
was a gentleman very decided in his opinions, and enjoyed the confidence
of the people to a large degree.

In 1840, the year of the great log cabin campaign, Mr. Francis Dizer was
elected.

In 1841 Mr. Benjamin Hitchings, Jr., was elected, and in 1842 the town
was represented by Mr. Stephen E. Hawkes.

In 1843-44 Benjamin F. Newhall, Esq., was the Representative, Mr.
Newhall was a man of large and varied experience, and held various
offices, always looking sharply after the real interests of the town. He
also held the office of County Commissioner.

In 1845 Mr. Pickmore Jackson was the Representative. He has also held
various offices in the town, and has since served on the school
committee with good acceptance.

In 1846-47 Mr. Sewall Boardman represented the town.

In 1852 Mr. George H. Sweetser was the Representative. Mr. Sweetser has
also held a seat in our State Senate two years, and filled various town
offices. He was a prompt and energetic business man, engaged in
connection with his brother, Mr. Charles A. Sweetser, in the manufacture
of snuff and cigars.

In 1853 Mr. John B. Hitching was elected. He has held various offices in
the town.

In 1854 the town was represented by Mr. Samuel Hawkes, who has also
served in several other positions, proving himself a very
straightforward and reliable man.

In 1855 Mr. Richard Mansfield was elected. He was for many years Tax
Collector and Constable, and when he laid his hand on a man's shoulder,
in the name of the law, the duty was performed in such a good-natured
manner that it really did not seem so very bad, after all.

In 1856 Mr. William H. Newhall represented the town. He has held the
offices of Town Clerk and Selectman longer than any other person in
town, and is still in office.

In 1857 Mr. Jacob B. Calley was elected.

In 1858 the district system was adopted, and Mr. Jonathan Newhall was
elected to represent the twenty-fourth Essex District, comprising the
towns of Saugus, Lynnfield and Middleton.

[Illustration: _Sketch of Saugus._]

In 1861 Mr. Harmon Hall represented the District. Mr. Hall is a very
energetic business man, and has accumulated a very handsome property by
the manufacture of boots and shoes. He has held various other important
positions, and has been standing Moderator in all town meetings, always
putting business through by daylight.

In 1863 Mr. John Hewlett was elected. He resides in that part of the
town called North Saugus, and was for a long series of years a
manufacturer of snuff and cigars.

In 1864 Mr. Charles W. Newhall was the Representative.

In 1867 Mr. Sebastian S. Dunn represented the District. Mr. Dunn was a
dealer in snuff, cigars and spices, and is now engaged in farming in
Dakota.

In 1870 Mr. John Armitage represented the District--the twentieth
Essex--comprising the towns of Saugus, Lynnfield, Middleton and
Topsfield. He has been engaged in the woollen business most of his life;
formerly a partner with Pranker & Co. He has also held other town
offices with great acceptance.

J.B. Calley succeeded Mr. Armitage, it being the second time he had been
elected. Otis M. Hitchings was the next Representative, a shoe
manufacturer, being elected over A.A. Scott, Esq., the republican
candidate.

Joseph Whitehead was the next Representative from Saugus, a grocer in
business. He was then and still is Town Treasurer, repeatedly having
received every vote cast. J. Allston Newhall was elected in 1878 and for
several years was selectman.

Albert H. Sweetser was our last Representative, elected in 1882-3, by
one of the largest majorities ever given in the District. He is a snuff
manufacturer, doing business at Cliftondale, under the firm of Sweetser
Bros., whom he succeeds in business. Saugus is entitled to the next
Representative in 1885-6. The womb of the future will alone reveal his
name.

The future of Saugus would seem to be well assured, having frequent
trains to and from Boston and Lynn, with enlarged facilities for
building purposes, especially at Cliftondale, where a syndicate has
recently been formed, composed of Charles H. Bond, Edward S. Kent, and
Henry Waite, who have purchased thirty-four acres of land, formerly
belonging to the Anthony Hatch estate, which, with other adjoining lands
are to be laid out into streets and lots presenting such opportunities
and facilities for building as cannot fail to attract all who are
desirious of obtaining suburban residences, and thus largely add to the
taxable property of Saugus and to the prosperity of this interesting
locality.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE BARTHOLDI COLOSSUS.

By WILLIAM HOWE DOWNES.


The project of erecting a colossal statue of Liberty, which shall at
once serve as a lighthouse and as a symbolic work of art, may be
discussed from several different points of view. The abstract idea, as
it occurred to the sculptor, Mr. Bartholdi, was noble. The colossus was
to symbolize the historic friendship of the two great republics, the
United States and France; it was to further symbolize the idea of
freedom and fraternity which underlies the republican form of
government. Lafayette and Jefferson would have been touched by the
project. If we are not touched by it, it proves that we have forgotten
much which it would become us to recall. Before our nation was, the
democratic idea had been for many years existing and expanding among the
French people; crushed again and again by tyrants, it ever rose, renewed
and fresh for the irrepressible conflict. Through all their vicissitudes
the people of France have upheld, unfaltering, their ideal--liberty,
equality and fraternity. Our own republic exists to-day because France
helped us when England sought to crush us. It is never amiss to freshen
our memories as to these historic facts. The symbolism of the colossus
would therefore be very fine; it would have a meaning which every one
could understand. It would signify not only the amity of France and the
United States, and the republican idea of brotherhood and freedom, as I
have said; but it would also stand for American hospitality to the
European emigrant, and Emma Lazarus has thus imagined the colossus
endowed with speech:

  "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she.
  With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
  Your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free;
  The wretched refuse of your teeming shore--
  Send these, the homeless, temptest-tost to me--
  I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Now, there can be no two ways of thinking among patriotic Americans as
to this aspect of the Bartholdi colossus question. It must be agreed
that the motive of the work is extremely grand, and that its
significance would be glorious. The sculptor's project was a generous
inspiration, for which he must be cordially remembered. To be sure, it
may be said he is getting well advertised; that is very true, but it
would be mean in us to begrudge him what personal fame he may derive
from the work. To assume that the whole affair is a "job," or that it is
entirely the outcome of one man's scheming egotism and desire for
notoriety, is to take a deplorably low view of it; to draw unwarranted
conclusions and to wrong ourselves. The money to pay for the
statue--about $250,000--was raised by popular subscription in France,
under the auspices of the Franco-American Union, an association of
gentlemen whose membership includes such names as Laboulaye, de
Lafayette, de Rochambeau, de Noailles, de Toqueville, de Witt, Martin,
de Remusat. The identification of these excellent men with the project
should be a sufficient guarantee of its disinterested character. The
efforts made in this country to raise the money--$250,000--required to
build a suitable pedestal for the statue, are a subject of every day
comment, and the failure to obtain the whole amount is a matter for no
small degree of chagrin.

Who and what is Mr. Bartholdi? He is a native of Colmar, in Alsace, and
comes of a good stock; a pupil of the Lycee Louis-le-Grand, and of Ary
Scheffer, he studied first painting then sculpture, and after a journey
in the East with Gerome, established his atelier in Paris. He served in
the irregular corps of Garibaldi during the war of 1870, and the
following year visited the United States. It is admitted that he is a
man of talent, but that he is not considered a great sculptor in his own
country is equally beyond doubt. He would not be compared, for instance,
with such men as Chapu, Dubois, Falguiere, Clesinger, Mercie, Fremiet,
men who stand in the front rank of their profession. The list of his
works is not long. It includes statues of General Rapp, Vercingetorix,
Vauban, Champollion, Lafayette and Rouget de l'Isle; ideal groups
entitled "Genius in the Grasp of Misery," and "the Malediction of
Alsace;" busts of Messrs. Erckmann and Chatrain; single figures called
"Le Vigneron," "Genie Funebre" and "Peace;" and a monument to Martin
Schoengauer in the form of a fountain for the courtyard of the Colmar
Museum. There may be a few others. Last, but by no means least, there is
the great Lion of Belfort, his best work. This is about 91 by 52 feet in
dimensions, and is carved from a block of reddish Vosges stone. It is
intended to commemorate the defence of Belfort against the German army
in 1870, an episode of heroic interest. The immense animal is
represented as wounded but still capable of fighting, half lying, half
standing, with an expression of rage and mighty defiance. It is not too
much to say that Mr. Bartholdi in this case has shown a fine
appreciation of the requirements of colossal sculpture. He has
sacrificed all unnecessary details, and, taking a lesson from the old
Egyptian stone-cutters, has presented an impressive arrangement of
simple masses and unvexed surfaces which give to the composition a
marvellous breadth of effect. The lion is placed in a sort of rude niche
on the side of a rocky hill, which is the foundation of the fortress of
Belfort. It is visible at a great distance, and is said to be strikingly
noble from every point of view. The idea is not original, however well
it may have been carried out, for the Lion of Lucerne by Thorwaldsen is
its prototype on a smaller scale and commemorates an event of somewhat
similar character. The bronze equestrian statue of Vercingetorix, the
fiery Gallic chieftain, in the Clermont museum, is full of violent
action. The horse is flying along with his legs in positions which set
all the science of Mr. Muybridge at defiance; the man is brandishing his
sword and half-turning in his saddle to shout encouragement to his
followers. The whole is supported by a bit of artificial rock-work under
the horse, and the body of a dead Gaul lies close beside it. In the
statue of Rouget de l'Isle we see a young man striking an orator's
attitude, with his right arm raised in a gesture which seems to say:

"_Aux armes, citoyens / Formes vos bataillons!_"

The Lafayette, in New York, is perhaps a mediocre statue, but even so,
it is better than most of our statues. A Frenchman has said of it that
the figure "resembles rather a young tenor hurling out his C sharp, than
a hero offering his heart and sword to liberty." It represents our
ancient ally extending his left hand in a gesture of greeting, while his
right hand, which holds his sword, is pressed against his breast in a
somewhat theatrical movement. It will be inferred that the general
criticism to be made upon Mr. Bartholdi's statues is that they are
violent and want repose. The Vercingetorix, the Rouget de l'Isle, the
Lafayette, all have this exaggerated stress of action. They have
counterbalancing features of merit, no doubt, but none of so
transcendent weight that we can afford to overlook this grave defect.

Coming now to the main question, which it is the design of this paper to
discuss, the inquiry arises: What of the colossal statue of Liberty as a
work of art? For, no matter how noble the motive may be, or how generous
the givers, it must after all be subjected to this test. If it is not a
work of art, the larger it is, the more offensive it must be. There are
not wanting critics who maintain that colossal figures cannot be works
of art; they claim that such representations of the human form are
unnatural and monstrous, and it is true that they are able to point out
some "terrible examples" of modern failures, such, for instance, as the
"Bavaria" statue at Munich. But these writers appear to forget that the
"Minerva" of the Parthenon and the Olympian Jupiter were the works of
the greatest sculptor of ancient times, and that no less a man than
Michael Angelo was the author of the "David" and "Moses." It is
therefore apparent that those who deny the legitimacy of colossal
sculptures _in toto_ go too far; but it is quite true that colossal
works have their own laws and are subject to peculiar conditions. Mr.
Lesbazeilles[A] says that "colossal statuary is in its proper place when
it expresses power, majesty, the qualities that inspire respect and
fear; but it would be out of place if it sought to please us by the
expression of grace.... Its function is to set forth the sublime and the
grandiose." The colossi found among the ruins of Egyptian Temples and
Palaces cannot be seen without emotion, for if many of them are
admirable only because of their great size, still no observer can avoid
a feeling of astonishment on account of the vast energy, courage and
industry of the men of old who could vanquish such gigantic
difficulties. At the same time it will not do to assume that the
Egyptian stone cutters were not artists. The great Sphinx of Giseh, huge
as it is, is far from being a primitive and vulgar creation. "The
portions of the head which have been preserved," says Mr. Charles Blanc,
"the brow, the eyebrows, the corners of the eyes, the passage from the
temples to the cheek-bones, and from the cheek-bones to the cheek, the
remains of the mouth and chin,--all this testifies to an extraordinary
fineness of chiselling. The entire face has a solemn serenity and a
sovereign goodness." Leaving aside all consideration of the artistic
merits of other Egyptian colossi,--those at Memphis, Thebes, Karnac and
Luxor, with the twin marvels of Amenophis-Memnon--we turn to the most
famous colossus of antiquity, that at Rhodes, only to find that we have
even less evidence on which to base an opinion as to its quality than is
available in the case of the numerous primitive works of Egypt and of
India. We know its approximate dimensions, the material of which it was
made, and that it was overthrown by an earthquake, but there seems to be
reason to doubt its traditional attitude, and nothing is known as to
what it amounted to as a work of art, though it may be presumed that,
being the creation of a Greek, it had the merits of its classic age and
school. Of the masterpieces of Phidias it may be said that they were
designed for the interiors of Temples and were adopted with consummate
art to the places they occupied; they have been reconstructed for us
from authentic descriptions, and we are enabled to judge concerning that
majestic and ponderous beauty which made them the fit presentments of
the greatest pagan deities. I need say nothing of the immortal statues
by Michael Angelo, and will therefore hasten to consider the modern
outdoor colossi which now exist in Europe--the St. Charles Borromeo at
Arona, Italy, the Bavaria at Munich, the Arminius in Westphalia, Our
Lady of Puy in France. The St. Charles Borromeo, near the shore of Lake
Maggiore, dates from 1697, and is the work of a sculptor known as Il
Cerano. Its height is 76 feet, or with its pedestal, 114 feet. The arm
is over 29 feet long, the nose 33 inches, and the forefinger 6 feet 4
inches. The statue is entirely of hammered copper plates riveted
together, supported by means of clamps and bands of iron on an interior
mass of masonry. The effect of the work is far from being artistic. It
is in a retired spot on a hill, a mile or two from the little village of
Arona. The Bavaria, near Munich, erected in 1850, is 51 feet high, on a
pedestal about 26 feet high, and is the work of Schwanthaler. It is of
bronze and weighs about 78 tons. The location of this monstrous lump of
metal directly in front of a building emphasizes its total want of
sculptural merit, and makes it a doubly lamentable example of bad taste
and bombast. The Arminius colossal, on a height near Detmold in
Westphalia, was erected in 1875, is 65 feet high, and weighs 18 tons.
The name of the sculptor is not given by any of the authorities
consulted, which is perhaps just as well. This statue rests on "a
dome-like summit of a monumental structure," and brandishes a sword 24
feet long in one hand. The Virgin of Puy is by Bonassieux, was set up in
1860, is 52 feet high, weighs 110 tons, and stands on a cliff some 400
feet above the town. It is, like the Bavaria, of bronze, cast in
sections, and made from cannons taken in warfare. The Virgin's head is
surmounted by a crown of stars, and she carries the infant Christ on her
left arm. The location of this statue is felicitous, but it has no
intrinsic value as an art work. It will be seen, then, that these
outdoor colossi of to-day do not afford us much encouragement to believe
that Mr. Bartholdi will be able to surmount the difficulties which have
vanquished one sculptor after another in their endeavors to perform
similar prodigies. Sculpture is perhaps the most difficult of the arts
of design. There is an antique statue in the Louvre which displays such
wonderful anatomical knowledge, that Reynolds is said to have remarked,
"to learn that alone might consume the labor of a whole life." And it is
an undeniable fact that enlarging the scale of a statue adds in more
than a corresponding degree to the difficulties of the undertaking. The
colossi of the ancients were to a great extent designed for either the
interiors or the exteriors of religious temples, where they were
artfully adapted to be seen in connection with architectural effects.
Concerning the sole prominent exception to this rule, the statue of
Apollo at Rhodes, we have such scant information that even its position
is a subject of dispute. It has been pointed out how the four modern
outdoor colossi of Europe each and all fail to attain the requirements
of a work of art. All our inquiries, it appears then, lead to the
conclusion that Mr. Bartholdi has many chances against him, so far as we
are able to learn from an examination of the precedents, and in view of
these facts it would be a matter for surprise if the "Liberty" statue
should prove to possess any title to the name of a work of art. We
reserve a final decision, however, as to this most important phase of
the affair, until the statue is in place.

[Footnote A: "Les Colosses anciens et moderns," par E. Lesbazeilles;
Paris: 1881.]

The idea that great size in statues is necessarily vulgar, does not seem
admissible. It would be quite as just to condemn the paintings on a
colossal scale in which Tintoretto and Veronese so nobly manifested
their exceptional powers. The size of a work of art _per se_ is an
indifferent matter. Mere bigness or mere littleness decides nothing. But
a colossal work has its conditions of being: it must conform to certain
laws. It must be executed in a large style; it must represent a grand
idea; it must possess dignity and strength; it must convey the idea of
power and majesty; it must be located in a place where its surroundings
shall augment instead of detracting from its aspect of grandeur; it must
be magnificent, for if not it will be ridiculous. The engravings of Mr.
Bartholdi's statue represent a woman clad in a peplum and tunic which
fall in ample folds from waist and shoulder to her feet. The left foot,
a trifle advanced supports the main weight of the body. The right arm is
uplifted in a vigorous movement and holds aloft a blazing torch. The
left hand grasps a tablet on which the date of the Declaration of
Independence appears; this is held rather close to the body and at a
slight angle from it. The head is that of a handsome, proud and brave
woman. It is crowned by a diadem. The arrangement of the draperies is,
if one may judge from the pictures, a feature of especial excellence in
the design. There is merit in the disposition of the peplum or that
portion of the draperies flung back over the left shoulder, the folds of
which hang obliquely (from the left shoulder to the right side of the
waist and thence downward almost to the right knee,) thus breaking up
the monotony of the perpendicular lines formed by the folds of the tunic
beneath. The movement of the uplifted right arm is characterized by a
certain _elan_ which, however, does not suggest violence; the carriage
of the head is dignified, and so far as one may judge from a variety of
prints, the face is fine in its proportions and expression. I do not
find the movement of the uplifted arm violent, and, on the whole, am
inclined to believe the composition a very good one in its main
features. There will be an undeniable heaviness in the great masses of
drapery, especially as seen from behind, but the illusion as to the size
of the figure created by its elevation on a pedestal and foundation
nearly twice as high as itself may do much towards obviating this
objection. The background of the figure will be the

  ... Spacious firmament on high,
  With all the blue etherial sky,
  And spangled heavens ...

The island is far enough removed from the city so that no direct
comparisons can be made between the statue and any buildings. Seen from
the deck of a steamer at a distance say of a quarter of a mile, the
horizon, formed by the roofs, towers, spires and chimneys of three
cities, will not appear higher than the lower half of the pedestal. In
other words the statue will neither be dwarfed nor magnified by the
contiguity of any discordant objects. It will stand alone. The abstract
idea, as has been said, is noble. The plan of utilizing the statue as a
lighthouse at night does not detract from its worth in this respect; it
may be said to even emphasize the allegorial sense of the work.
"Liberty enlightening the world," lights the way of the sailor in the
crowded harbor of the second commercial city of the world. The very
magnitude of the work typifies, after a manner, the vast extent of our
country, and the audacity of the scheme is not inappropriate in the
place where it is to stand. It may be, indeed, that when the statue is
set up, we shall find it awkward and offensive, as some critics have
already prophecied: but that it must be so inevitably does not appear to
me to be a logical deduction from the information we have at hand as to
the artist and his plans. It is freely admitted that no modern work of
this nature has been successful, but that does not prove that this must
absolutely be a failure. The project ought not to be condemned in
advance because of the great difficulties surrounding it, its unequalled
scope and its novelty. Mr. Bartholdi is above all ingenious, bold, and
fertile in resources; it would be a great pity not to have him allowed
every opportunity to carry out a design in which, as we have seen, there
are so many elements of interest and even of grandeur. It has been said
that "there does not exist on French soil such a bombastic work as this
will be." Very well; admitting for the sake of argument that it will be
bombastic, shall we reject and condemn a colossal statue before having
seen it, because there is nothing like it in France? And is it true that
it will be bomastic? That is by no means demonstrated. On the contrary
an impartial examination of the design would show that the work has been
seriously conceived and thought out; that it does not lack dignity; that
it is intended to be full of spirit and significance. It would be the
part of wisdom at least to avoid dogmatism in an advance judgment as to
its worth as a work of art, and to wait awhile before pronouncing a
final verdict.

Hazlitt tells of a conceited English painter who went to Rome, and when
he got into the Sistine Chapel, turning to his companion, said, "Egad,
George, we're bit!" Our own tendency is, because of our ignorance, to be
sceptical and suspicious as to foreign works of art, especially of a
kind that are novel and daring. No one is so hard to please as a
simpleton. We are so afraid of being taken in, that we are reluctant to
commit ourselves in favor of any new thing until we have heard from
headquarters; but it appears to be considered a sign of knowledge to
vituperate pictures and statues which do not conform to some undefinable
ideal standard of our own invention. There is, of course, a class of
indulgent critics who are pernicious enough in their way; but the savage
and destructive criticism of which I speak is quite as ignorant and far
more harmful. It assumes an air of authority based on a superficial
knowledge of art, and beguiles the public into a belief in its
infallibility by means of a smooth style and an occasional epigram the
smartness of which may and often does conceal a rank injustice. The
expression of a hope that the result of Mr. Bartholdi's labors "will be
something better than another gigantic asparagus stalk added to those
that already give so comical a look to our sky-line," is truly an
encouraging and generous utterance at this particular stage of the
enterprise, and equals in moderation the courteous remark that the
statue "could not fail to be ridiculous in the expanse of New York
Bay."[A] It is not necessary to touch upon the question of courtesy at
all, but it is possible that one of our critics may live to regret his
vegetable metaphor, and the other to revise his prematurely positive
censure. There is a sketch in charcoal which represents the Bartholdi
colossus as the artist has seen it in his mind's eye, standing high
above the waters of the beautiful harbor at twilight, when the lights
are just beginning to twinkle in the distant cities and when darkness is
softly stealing over the service of the busy earth and sea. The mystery
of evening enwraps the huge form of the statue, which looms vaster than
by day, and takes on an aspect of strange majesty, augmented by the
background of hurrying clouds which fill the upper portion of the sky.
So seen, the immense Liberty appears what the sculptor wishes and
intends it to be, what we Americans sincerely hope it may be,--a fitting
memorial of an inspiring episode in history, and a great work of modern
art.

[Footnote A: _Vide_ papers by Clarence Cook in The Studio, and by
Professor D. Cady Eaton of Yale College in the New York Tribune.]

       *       *       *       *       *

ELIZABETH.[A]

A ROMANCE OF COLONIAL DAYS.

BY FRANCES C. SPARHAWK, Author of "A Lazy Man's Work."

[Footnote A: Copyright, 1884, by Frances C. Sparhawk. All rights
reserved.]




CHAPTER III.

IDLESSE.


"Don't move your head, Elizabeth, keep it in that position a little
longer," said Katie Archdale, as she and her friend sat together the
morning after the sail. "I wish an artist were here to paint you so;
you've no idea how striking you are."

"No, I have not," laughed the other, forgetting to keep still as she
spoke, and turning the face that had been toward the window full upon
her companion. The scene that Elizabeth's eyes had been dwelling upon
was worthy of admiration; her enthusiasm had not escaped her in any
word, but her eyes were enraptured with it, and her whole face, warmed
with faint reflection of the inward glow, was beautiful with youth, and
thought, and feeling.

"Now you've spoilt it," cried Katie, "now you are merely a nice-looking
young lady; you were beautiful before, perfectly beautiful, like a
picture that one can look at, and look at, and go away filled with, and
come back to, and never tire of. The people that see you so worship you,
but then, nobody has a chance to do it. You just sit and don't say much
except once in a while when you wake up, then you are brilliant, but
never tender, as you know how to be. You give people an impression that
you are hard. Sometimes I should like to shake you."

Elizabeth laughed.

"That's the way you worship me," she answered. "I suspected it was a
strange kind of adoration, largely made up of snubbing."

"It's not snubbing," retorted Katie, "it is trying to rouse you to what
you you might be. But I am wasting my breath; you don't believe a word I
say."

"I should like to believe it," returned the girl, smiling a little
sadly. "But even if I did believe every word of it, it would seem to me
a great deal nicer to be like you, beautiful all the time, and one whom
everybody loves. But there's one thing to be said, if it were I who were
beautiful, I could'nt have the pleasure I do in looking at you, and
perhaps, after all, I shouldn't get any more enjoyment out of it."

"Oh, yes, you would," retorted the other, then bit her lips angrily at
her inadvertence. A shrewd smile flitted over Elizabeth's face, but she
made no comment, and Katie went on hurriedly to ask, "What shall we do
to amuse ourselves to-day, Betsey?" Another slight movement of the
hearer's lips responded. This name was Katie's special term of
endearment, and never used except when they were alone; no one else ever
called her by it.

"I don't know," she said. "Let us sit here as we are doing now. Move
your chair nearer the window and look down on the river. See the
blue-black shadows on it. And look at the forests, how they stretch away
with a few clearings here and there. A city behind us, to be sure, a
little city, but before us the forests, and the Indians. I wonder what
it all means for us."

"The axe for one, the gun for the other," retorted Katie with a hardness
which belief in the savageness and treachery of the red man had
instilled into the age. "The forests mean fortune to some of us," she
added.

"Yes," answered Elizabeth slowly, finding an unsatisfactory element in
her companion's summary.

"Do you mean that we shall have to shoot down a whole race? That is
dreadful," she added after a pause.

"You and I have nothing to do with all that," returned Katie.

Elizabeth waited in despair of putting the case as she felt it.

"I was thinking," she said at last, "that if we have a whole land of
forests to cut down and of cities to build up, somehow, everything will
be different here from the Old England. I often wonder what it is to be
in this New World. It must be unlike the Old," she repeated.

"I don't wonder," returned Katie, "and that's just what you shouldn't
do. Wonder what you're going to wear to-morrow when we dine at Aunt
Faith's, or whether Master Harwin will call this morning, or Master
Waldo, or wonder about something sensible."

"Which means, 'or if it's to be Master Archdale,'" retorted Elizabeth,
smiling into the laughing eyes fixed upon her face, and making them fall
at the keenness of her glance, while a brighter rose than Katie cared to
show tinted the creamy skin and made her bend a moment to arrange the
rosette of her slipper. The movement showed her hair in all its
perfection, for at this early hour it had not been tortured into
elaborateness, but as she sat in her bedroom talking with her guest, was
loosely coiled to be out of the way, and thus drawn back in its wavy
abundance showed now burnished, and now a darker brown, as the sunlight
or the shadow fell upon it.

"He's not always sensible," she answered, lifting her head again with a
half defiant gesture, and smiling. Katie's smile was irresistible, it
won her admirers by the score, not altogether because it gave a glimpse
of beautiful teeth, or because her mouth was at its perfection then, but
that it was an expression of childlike abandonment to the spirit of the
moment, which charmed the gay because they sympathized with it and the
serious because it was a mood of mind into which they would be glad to
enter. "Stephen has not been quite himself lately, rather stupid," and
she looked as if she were not unsuspicious of the reason.

"Too many of us admirers, he thinks?" laughed Elizabeth. "For he is
bright enough when he takes the trouble to speak, but generally he
doesn't seem to consider any one of sufficient importance to amuse."

"That is not so," cried Katie, "you are mistaken. But you don't know
Stephen very well," she added. "What a pity that you are not living
here, then you would, and then we should have known each other all our
lives, instead of only since we went to school together. What good times
we had at Madam Flamingo's. There you sit, now, and look as meekly
reproving as if you had'nt invented that name for her yourself. It was
so good, it has stood by her ever since."

"Did I? I had forgotten it."

"Perhaps, at least, you remember the red shawl that got her the
nickname? It was really something nice,--the shawl, I mean, but the old
dame was so ridiculously proud of it and so perpetually flaunting it,
she must have thought it very becoming. We girls were tired of the sight
of it. And one day, when you were provoked with her about something and
left her and came into the schoolroom after hours, you walked up to a
knot of us, and with your air of scorn said something about Madam
Flamingo. Didn't it spread like wildfire? Our set will call that
venerable dame 'Flamingo' to the end of her days."

"I suppose we shall, but I had no recollection that it was I who gave
her the name."

"Yes, you gave it to her," repeated Katie. "You may be very sure I
should not have forgotten it if I had been so clever. Those were happy
days for all their petty tribulations," she added after a pause.

Elizabeth looked at her sitting there meditative.

"I should think these were happy days for you, Katie. What more can you
want than you have now?"

"Oh, the roc's eggs, I suppose," answered the girl. "No, seriously, I am
pretty likely to get what I want most. I am happy enough, only not
absolutely happy quite yet."

"Why not?"

"Our good minister would say it was not intended for mortals."

"If I felt like being quite content I should not give it up because
somebody else said it was too much for me."

"Oh, well," said Katie, laughing, "it has nothing to do with our good
Parson Shurtleff, anyway."

"I thought not. What, then?"

The other did not answer, but sat looking out of the window with eyes
that were not studying the landscape. Whether her little troubles
dissolved into the cloudless sky, like mist too thin to take shape, or
whether she preferred to keep her perplexities to herself is uncertain,
but when she spoke it was about another reminiscence of school days.

"Do you remember that morning Stephen came to see me?" she began. "Madam
thought at first that Master Archdale must be my father, and she gave a
most gracious assent to my request to go to walk with him. I was dying
of fun all the time, I could scarcely keep my face straight; then, when
she caught a glimpse of him as we were going out of the hall, she said
in a dubious tone, 'Your brother, I presume, Mistress Archdale?' But I
never heard a word. I was near the street door and I put myself the
other side of it without much delay. So did Stephen. And we went off
laughing. He said I was a wicked little cousin, and he spelled it
'cozen;' but he didn't seem to mind my wickedness at all." There was a
pause, during which Katie looked at her smiling friend, and her own
face dimpled bewitchingly. "This is exactly what you would have done,
Elizabeth," she said. "You would have heard that tentative remark of
Madam's, of course you would, and you would have stood still in the hall
and explained that Stephen was your cousin, instead of your brother, and
have lost your walk beyond a doubt, you know the Flamingo. Now, I was
just as good as you would have been, only, I was wiser. I, too, told
Madam that he was my cousin, but I waited until I came home to do it.
The poor old lady could not help herself then; it was impossible to take
back my fun, and she could not punish me, because she had given me
permission to go, nor could she affirm that I heard her remark, for it
was made in an undertone. There was nothing left for her but to wrap her
illustrious shawl about her and look dignified." "Do you think Master
Harwin will come to-day?" Katie asked a few moments later, "and Master
Waldo? I hope they will all three be here together; it will be fun, they
can entertain each other, they are so fond of one another."

"Katie! Katie!"

The girl broke into a laugh.

"Oh, yes, I remember," she said, "Stephen is your property."

"Don't," cried Elizabeth, with sudden gravity and paleness in her face.
"I think it was wicked in me to jest about such a sacred thing. Let me
forget it."

"I wont tease you if you really care. But if it was wicked, it was a
great deal more my doing, and Master Waldo's, than your's or Stephen's.
We wanted to see the fun. Your great fault, Elizabeth, is that you vex
yourself too much about little things. Do you know it will make you have
wrinkles?"

This question was put with so much earnestness that Elizabeth laughed
heartily.

"One thing is sure," she said, "I shall not remain ignorant of my
failings through want of being told them while I'm here. It would be
better to go home."

"Only try it!" cried Katie, going to her and kissing her. "But now,
Elizabeth, I want to tell you something in all seriousness. Just listen
to me, and profit by it, if you can. I've found it out for myself. The
more you laugh at other people's absurdities the fewer of your own will
be noticed, because, you see, it implies that you are on the right
standpoint to get a review of other people."

"That sounds more like eighty than eighteen."

"Elizabeth, it is the greatest mistake in the world, I mean just that,
to keep back all your wisdom until you get to be eighty. What use will
it be to you then? All you can do with it will be to see how much more
sensibly you might have acted. That's what will happen to you, my dear,
if you don't look out. But at eighteen--I am nineteen--everything is
before you, and you want to know how to guide your life to get all the
best things you can out of it without being wickedly selfish--at least I
do. Your aspirations, I suppose, are fixed upon the forests and the
Indian, and problems concerning the future of the American Colonies. But
I'm more reverent than you, I think the Lord is able to take care of
those."

Elizabeth looked vaguely troubled by the fallacy which she felt in this
speech without being quite willing or able to bring it to light.

"But, remember, I was twenty-one my last birthday," she answered. "I
ought to take a broader view of things."

"On the contrary, you're getting to be an old maid. You should consider
which of your suitors you want, and say 'yes' to him on the spot. By the
way, what has become of your friend, the handsome Master Edmonson?"

Elizabeth colored.

"I don't know," she answered. "Father has heard from him since he went
away, so I suppose that he is well."

"And he has not written to you?"

"No, he has only sent a message." Then, after a pause, "He said that he
was coming back in the autumn."

"I hope so," cried Katie, "he is a most fascinating man, and of such
family! Stephen was speaking of him the other day. He was very
attentive, was he not, Betsey?"

"Ye-es, I suppose so. But there was something that I fancied papa did
not like."

"I'm so sorry," cried Katie. She rose, and crossing the little space
between herself and her friend, dropped upon the footstool at
Elizabeth's feet, and laying her arms in the girl's lap and resting her
chin upon them, looked up and added, "Tell me all about it, my dear."

"There is nothing to tell," answered Elizabeth, caressing the beautiful
hair and looking into the eyes that had tears of sympathy in them.

"I was afraid something had gone wrong, afraid that you would care."

Elizabeth sat thinking.

"I don't know," she said slowly at last, "I don't know whether I should
really care or not if I never saw him again."

Her companion looked at her a moment in silence, and when she began to
speak it was about something else.




CHAPTER IV.

GIRDING ON THE HARNESS.


Later that same morning a gentleman calling upon Mistress Katie Archdale
was told that he would find her with friends in the garden. Walking
through the paths with a leisurely step which the impatience of his mood
chafed against, he came upon a picture that he never forgot.

Great stretches of sunshine lay on the garden and in it brilliant beds
of flowers glowed with their richest lights, poppies folded their
gorgeous robes closely about them, Arab fashion, to keep out the heat;
hollyhocks stood in their stateliness flecked with changing shadows from
the aspen tree near by. Beds of tiger lilies, pinks, larkspur,
sweetwilliams, canterbury bells, primroses, gillyflowers, lobelia,
bloomed in a luxuriance that the methodical box which bordered them
could not restrain. But the garden was by no means a blaze of sunshine,
for ash trees, maples, elms, and varieties of the pine were there.
Trumpet-vines climbed on the wall, and overtopping that, caught at
trellises prepared to receive them, and formed screens of shadows that
flickered in every breeze and changed their places with the changing
sun. But it was only with a passing glance that the visitor saw these
things, his eyes were fixed upon an arbor at the end of the garden; it
was covered with clematis, while two great elms met overhead at its
entrance and shaded the path to it for a little distance. Under these
elms stood a group of young people. He was unannounced, and had
opportunity without being himself perceived, to scan this little group
as he went forward. His expression varied with each member of it, but
showed an interest of some sort in each. Now it was full of passionate
delight; then it changed as his look fell upon a tall young man with
dark eyes and a bearing that in its most gracious moments seemed unable
to lose a touch of haughtiness, but whose face now was alive with a
restful joy. The gazer, as he perceived this happiness, so wanting in
himself, scowled with a bitter hate and looked instantly toward another
of the party, this time with an expression of triumph. At the fourth and
last member of the group his glance though scowling, was contemptuous;
but the receiver was as unconscious of contempt as he felt undeserving
of it. From him the gazer's eyes returned to the person at whom he had
first looked. She was standing on the step of the arbor, an end of the
clematis vine swaying lightly back and forth over her head, and almost
touching her bright hair which was now towered high in the fashion of
the day. She was holding a spray of the vine in her hand. She had
fastened one end in the hair of a young lady who stood beside her, and
was now bringing the other about her neck, arranging the leaves and
flowers with skilful touches. Three men, including the new-comer,
watched her pretty air of absorption, and the deftness of her taper
fingers, the sweep of her dark lashes on her cheek as from the height of
her step she looked down at her companion, the curves of her beautiful
mouth that at the moment was daintly holding a pin with which the end of
the spray was to be fastened upon the front of the other's white dress.
It was certainly effective there. Yet none of the three men noticed
this, or saw that between the two girls the question as to beauty was a
question of time, that while the one face was blooming now in the
perfection of its charm, the charm of the other was still in its calyx.
The adorner intuitively felt something of this. Perhaps she was not the
less fond of her friend that the charms she saw in her were not patent
to everybody. Bring her forward as much as she might, Katie felt that
Elizabeth Royal would never be a rival. She even shrank from this kind
of prominence into which Katie's play was bringing her now. She had been
taken in hand at unawares and showed an impatience that if the other
were not quick, would oblige her to leave the work unfinished.

"There," cried Katie, at last giving the leaves a final pat of
arrangement, "that looks well, don't you think so, Master Waldo?"

"Good morning, Mistress Archdale," broke in a voice before Waldo could
answer. "And you, Mistress Royal," bowing low to her. "After our late
hours last night, permit me to felicitate you upon your good health this
morning, and--" he was about to add, "your charming appearance," but
something in the girl's eyes as she looked full at him held back the
words, and for a moment ruffled his smooth assurance. But as he
recovered himself and turned to salute the gentlemen, the smile on his
lips had triumph through its vexation.

"My proud lady, keep your pride a little longer," he said to himself.
And as he bowed to Stephen Archdale with a dignity as great as Stephen's
own, he was thinking: "My morning in that hot office has not been in
vain. I know your weak point now, my lofty fellow, and it is there that
I will undermine you. You detest business, indeed! John Archdale feels
that with his only son in England studying for the ministry he needs a
son-in-law in partnership with him. The thousands which I have been
putting into his business this morning are well spent, they make me
welcome here. Yes, your uncle needs me, Stephen Archdale, for your
clever papa is not always brotherly in his treatment, he has more than
once brought heavy losses upon the younger firm. It's a part of my
pleasure in prospect that now I shall be able to checkmate him in such
schemes, perhaps to bring back a little of the loss upon the shoulders
of his heir. Ah, I am safer from you than you dream." He turned to
Waldo, and as the two men bowed, they looked at one another steadily.
Each was remembering their conversation the night before over some
Bordeaux in Waldo's room, for they were staying at the same inn and
often spent an hour together. They had drunk sparingly, but, just
returned from their sail, each was filled with Katie Archdale's beauty,
and each had spoken out his purpose plainly, Waldo with an assurance
that, if it savored a little of conceit, was full of manliness, the
other with a half-smothered fierceness of passion that argued danger to
every obstacle in its way.

"You've come at the very right moment, Master Harwin," broke in Katie's
unconscious voice, and she smiled graciously, as she had a habit of
doing at everybody; "We were talking about you not two minutes ago."

"Then I am just in time to save my character."

"Don't be too sure about that," returned Miss Royal.

Waldo laughed, and Katie exchanged glances with him, and smiled
mischievously.

"No, don't be too sure; it will depend upon whether you say 'yes,' or
'no,' to my question. We were wondering something about you."

Harwin's heart sank, though he returned her smile and her glance with
interest. For there were questions she might ask which would
inconvenience him, but they should not embarrass him.

"We were wondering," pursued Katie, "if you had ever been presented.
Have you?"

As the sun breaks out from a heavy cloud, the light returned to Harwin's
blue eyes.

"Yes," he said, "four years ago. I went to court with my uncle, Sir
Rydal Harwin, and his majesty was gracious enough to nod in answer to my
profound reverence."

"It was a very brilliant scene, I am sure, and very interesting."

"Deeply interesting," returned Harwin with all the traditional respect
of an Englishman for his sovereign. Archdale's lip curled a trifle at
what seemed to him obsequiousness, but Harwin was not looking at him.

"Stephen has been," pursued Katie, "and he says it was very fine, but
for all that he does not seem to care at all about it. He says he would
rather go off for a day's hunting any time. The ladies looked charming,
he said, and the gentlemen magnificent; but he was bored to death, for
all that."

"In order to appreciate it fully," returned Archdale, "it would be
necessary that one should be majesty." He straightened himself as he
spoke, and looked at Harwin with such gravity that the latter, meeting
the light of his eyes, was puzzled whether this was jest or earnest,
until Miss Royal's laugh relieved his uncertainty. Katie laid her hand
on the speaker's arm and shook it lightly.

"You told me I should be sure to enjoy it," she said. "Now, what do you
mean?"

"Ah! but you would be queen," said Harwin, "queen in your own right, a
divine right of beauty that no one can resist."

Katie looked at him, disposed for a moment to be angry, but her love of
admiration could not resist the worship of his eyes, and the lips
prepared to pout curved into a smile not less bewitching that the
brightness of anger was still in her cheeks. Archdale and Waldo turned
indignant glances on the speaker, but it was manifestly absurd to resent
a speech that pleased the object of it, and that each secretly felt
would not have sounded ill if he had made it himself. Elizabeth looked
from Katie to Harwin with eyes that endorsed his assertion, and as the
latter read her expression his scornful wonder in the boat returned.

"Why are we all standing outside in the heat?" cried the hostess. "Let
us go into the arbor, there is plenty of room to move about there, we
have had a dozen together in it many a time." She passed in under the
arch as she spoke, and the others followed her. There in her own way
which was not so very witty or wise, and yet was very charming, she held
her little court, and the three men who had been in love with her at the
beginning of the hour were still more in love at the end of it. And
Elizabeth who watched her with an admiration as deep as their's, if more
tranquil, did not wonder that it was so. Katie did not forget her, nor
did the gentlemen, or at least two of them, forget to be courteous, but
if she had known what became of the spray of clematis which being in the
way as she turned her head, she had soon unfastened and let slip to the
ground, she would not have wondered, nor would she have cared. If she
had seen Archdale's heel crush it unheedingly as he passed out of the
arbor, the beat of her pulses would never have varied.




CHAPTER V.

ANTICIPATIONS.


It was early in December. The months had brought serious changes to all
but one of the group that the August morning had found in Mr. Archdale's
garden. Two had disappeared from the scene of their defeat, and to two
of them the future seemed opening up vistas of happiness as deep as the
present joy. Elizabeth Royal alone was a spectator in the events of the
past months, and even in her mind was a questioning that was at least
wonderment, if not pain.

Kenelm Waldo was in the West Indies, trying to escape from his pain at
Katie Archdale's refusal, but carrying it everywhere with him, as he did
recollections of her; to have lost them would have been to have lost his
memory altogether.

Ralph Harwin also had gone. His money was still in the firm of John
Archdale & Co., which it had made one of the richest in the Colonies;
its withdrawal was now to be expected at any moment, for Harwin did not
mean to return, and Archdale, while endeavoring to be ready for this,
saw that it would cripple him. Harwin had been right in believing that
he should make himself very useful and very acceptable to Katie's
father. For Archdale who was more desious of his daughter's happiness
than of anything else in the world, was disappointed that this did not
lie in the direction which, on the whole, would have been for his
greatest advantage. Harwin and he could have done better for Katie in
the way of fortune than Stephen Archdale with his distaste for business
would do. The Archdale connection had always been a dream of his, until
lately when this new possibility had superseded his nephew's interest in
his thoughts. There was an address and business keenness about Harwin
that, if Stephen possessed at all, was latent in him. The Colonel was
wealthy enough to afford the luxury of a son who was only a fine
gentleman. Stephen was a good fellow, he was sure, and Katie would be
happy with him. And yet--but even these thoughts left him as he leaned
back in his chair that day, sitting alone after dinner, and a mist came
over his eyes as he thought that in less than a fortnight his home would
no longer be his little daughter's.

"It will be all right," he said to himself with that sigh of resignation
with which we yield to the inevitable, as if there were a certain choice
and merit in doing it. "It is well that the affairs of men are in higher
hands than ours." John Archdale's piety was of the kind that utters
itself in solitude, or under the breath.

Katie at the moment was upstairs with her mother examining a package of
wedding gear that had arrived that day. She had no hesitation as to whom
her choice should have been. Yet, as she stood holding a pair of gloves,
measuring the long wrists on her arm and then drawing out the fingers
musingly, it was not of Stephen that she was thinking, or of him that
she spoke at last, as she turned away to lay down the gloves and take up
a piece of lace.

"Mother," she said, "I do sometimes feel badly for Master Harwin; he is
the only man in all the world that I ever had anything like fear of, and
now and then I did of him, such a fierceness would come over him once in
a while, not to me, but about me, I know, about losing me. He was
terribly in earnest. Stephen never gets into these moods, he is always
kind and lovable, just as he has been to me as far back as I can
remember, only, of course more so now."

"But things have gone differently with him and with poor Master Harwin,"
answered Mrs. Archdale. "If you had said 'no' to Stephen, you would have
seen the dark moods in him, too."

The young girl looked at her mother and smiled, and blushed a little in
a charming acknowledgment of feminine power to sway the minds of the
sterner half of humanity. Then she grew thoughtful again, not even
flattery diverting her long from her subject.

"But Stephen never could be like that," she said. "Stephen couldn't be
dark in that desperate sort of way. I can't describe it in Master
Harwin, but I feel it. Somehow, he would rather Stephen would die, or I
should, than have us marry."

"Did he ever say so?"

"Why, no, but you can feel things that nobody says. And, then, there is
something else, too. I am quite sure that sometime in his life he did
something, well, perhaps something wicked, I don't know what, but I do
know that a load lies on his conscience; for one day he told me as much.
It was just as he was going away, the day after I had refused him and he
knew of my engagement. He asked permission to come and bid me goodby.
Don't you remember?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Archdale.

"He looked at me and sighed. 'I've paid a heavy price,' he said half to
himself, 'to lose.' Then he added, 'Mistress Archdale, will you always
believe that I loved you devotedly, and always have loved you from the
hour I first saw you? If I could undo'--then he waited a moment and grew
dreadfully pale, and I think he finished differently from his first
intention--'If I could undo something in the past,' he said, 'I would
give my life to do it, but my life would be of no use.'"

"That looks as if it was something against you, Katie."

"Oh, no, I don't think so. Besides, he wouldn't have given his life at
all; that's only the way men talk, you know, when they want to make an
impression of their earnestness on women and they always think they do
it that way. But the men that are the readiest to give up their lives
don't say anything about it beforehand. Stephen would die for me, I'm
sure, but he never told me so in his life. He don't make many
protestations; he takes a great deal for granted. Why shouldn't he;
we've known one another from babyhood? But Master Harwin knew, somehow,
the minute after he spoke, if he didn't at the time, that he wouldn't
die for his fault at all, whatever it was. And then, after he spoke it
seemed to me as if he had changed his mind and didn't care about it in
any way, he only cared that I had refused him, and that he was not going
to see me any more. I am sorry for a man like that, and if he were going
to stay here I should be afraid of him, afraid for Stephen. But he sails
in a few days. I don't wonder he couldn't wait here for the next ship,
wait over the wedding, and whatever danger from him there may have been
sails with him. Poor man, I don't see what he liked me for." And with a
sigh, Katie dismissed the thought of him and his grief and evil
together, and turned her attention again to the wedding finery.

"Only see what exquisite lace," she cried, throwing it out on the table
to examine the web. "Where did Elizabeth get it, I wonder? She begged to
be allowed to give me my bridal veil, and she has certainly done it
handsomely, just as she always does everything, dear child. I suppose it
came out in one of her father's ships."

"Everything Master Royal touches turns into gold," said Mrs. Archdale,
after a critical examination of the lace had called forth her
admiration. "It's Mechlin, Katie. There is nobody in the Colonies richer
than he," she went on, "unless, possibly, the Colonel."

"I dare say I ought to pretend not to care that Stephen will have ever
so much money," returned the girl, taking up a broad band of India
muslin wrought with gold, and laying it over her sleeve to examine the
pattern, at which she smiled approvingly. "But then I do care. Stephen
is a great deal more interesting rich than he would be poor; he is not
made for a grub, neither am I, and living is much better fun when one
has laces like cobwebs, and velvets and paduasoys, and diamonds, mother,
to fill one's heart's desire."

As she spoke she looked an embodiment of fair youth and innocent
pleasure, and her mother, with a mother's admiration and sympathy in her
heart, gave her a lingering glance before she put on a little sternness,
and said, "My child, I don't like to hear you talk in that light way.
Your heart's desires, I trust, are set upon better things, those of
another world."

"Yes, mother, of course. But, then you know, we are to give our mind
faithfully to the things next to us, in order to get to those beyond
them, and that's what I am doing now, don't you see? O, mother, dear,
how I shall miss you, and all your dear, solemn talks, and your dear,
smiling looks." And winding her arms about her mother, Katie kissed her
so affectionately that Mrs. Archdale felt quite sure that the laces and
paduasoys had not yet spoilt her little daughter.

"Now, for my part," she said a few minutes later as she laid down a pair
of dainty white kid shoes, glittering with spangles from the tip of
their peaked toes to their very heels,--high enough for modern
days,--"These fit you to perfection, my dear. For my part," she
repeated, "you know that I have always hoped you would marry Stephen,
yet my sympathies go with Master Waldo in his loss, instead of with the
other one, whom I think your father at last grew to like best of the
three; it was strange that such a man could have gotten such an
influence, but then, they were in business together, and there is always
something mysterious about business. Master Waldo is a fine,
open-hearted young man, and he was very fond of you."

"Yes, I suppose so," answered the girl, with an effort to merge a smile
into the expression accompanying a sympathetic sigh. "It's too bad. But,
then, men must look out for themselves, women have to, and Kenelm Waldo
probably thinks he is worth any woman's heart."

"So he is, Katie."

"Um!" said the girl. "Well, he'd be wiser to be a little humble about
it. It takes better."

"Do you call Stephen humble?"

Katie laughed merrily. "But," she said, at last, "Stephen is Stephen,
and humility wouldn't suit him. He would look as badly without his pride
as without his lace ruffles."

"Is it his lace ruffles you're in love with, my child?"

"I don't know, mother," and she laughed again. "When should a young girl
laugh if not on the eve of her marriage with the man of her choice, when
friends and wealth conspire to make the event auspicious?"

"I shall not write to thank Elizabeth for her gift," she said, "for she
will be here before a letter can reach her. She leaves Boston to-morrow,
that's Tuesday, and she must be here by Friday, perhaps Thursday night,
if they start very early."

"I thought Master Royal's letter said Monday?"

"Tuesday," repeated Katie, "if the weather be suitable for his daughter.
Look at this letter and you'll see; his world hinges on his daughter's
comfort, he is father and mother both to her. Elizabeth needs it, too;
she can't take care of herself well. Perhaps she could wake up and do it
for somebody else. But I am not sure. She's a dear child, though she
seems to me younger than I am. Isn't it funny, mother, for she knows a
good deal more, and she's very bright sometimes? But she never makes the
best of anything, especially of herself."

It was the day before the wedding. The great old house was full of
bustle from its gambrel roof to its very cellar in which wines were
decanted to be in readiness, and into which pastries and sweetmeats were
carried from the pantry shelves overloaded with preparations for the
next day's festivities. Servants ran hither and thither, full of
excitement and pleasant anticipations. They all loved Katie who had
grown up among them. And, besides, the morrow's pleasures were not to be
enjoyed by them wholly by proxy, for if there was to be only wedding
enough for one pair, at least the remains of the feast would go round
handsomely. Two or three black faces were seen among the English ones,
but though they were owned by Mr. Archdale, the disgrace and the badge
of servitude had fallen upon them lightly, and the shining of merry eyes
and the gleam of white teeth relieved a darkness that nature, and not
despair, had made. In New England, masters were always finding reasons
why their slaves should be manumitted. How could slavery flourish in a
land where the wind of freedom was so strong that it could blow a whole
cargo of tea into the ocean?

But there were not only servants going back and forth through the
house, for it was full of guests. The Colonel's family living so near,
would not come until the morning of the ceremony, but other relatives
were there in force. Mrs. Archdale's brother,--a little patronizing but
very rich and gracious, and his family who having been well patronized,
were disposed to be humble and admiring, and her sister who not having
fed on the roses of life, had a good deal of wholesome strength about
her, together with a touch of something which, if it were wholesome, was
not exactly grateful. Cousins of Mr. Archdale were there also. Elizabeth
Royal, at Katie's special request, had been her guest for the last ten
days. Her father had gone home again the day he brought her and was
unable to return for the wedding and to take his daughter home
afterward, as he had intended; but he had sent Mrs. Eveleigh, his cousin
and housekeeper. It seemed strange that the father and daughter were so
companionable, for superficially they were entirely unlike. Mr. Royal
was considered stern and shrewd, and, though a well-read man, eminently
practical, more inclined to business than scholarship, while Elizabeth
was dreamy, generous, wholly unacquainted with business of any kind, and
it seemed too much uninterested in it ever to be acquainted. To most
people the affection between them seemed only that of nature and
circumstances, Elizabeth being an only child, and her mother having died
while she was very young. It is the last analysis of character that
discovers the same trait under different forms. None of her friends
carried analysis so far, and it was possible that no effort could have
discovered subtle likeness then. Perhaps it was still latent and would
only hereafter find some outward expression for itself. It sometimes
happens that physical likeness comes out only after death, mental not
until late in life, and likeness of character in the midst of unlikeness
is revealed usually only in the crucible of events.

That day, Elizabeth, from her window overlooking the garden, had seen a
picture that she never forgot. It was about noon, all the warmth that
was in the December sun filled the garden (which the leafless trees no
longer shaded). There was no snow on the ground, for the few stray
flakes premonitory of winter which had fallen from time to time in the
month had melted almost as soon as they had touched the ground. The air
was like an Indian summer's day; it seemed impossible that winter could
be round the corner waiting only for a change of wind. The tracery of
the boughs of the trees and of all their little twigs against the blue
sky was exquisite, the stalks of the dead flowers warmed into a livelier
brown in the sunlight. Yet it may have been partly the figures in the
foreground that made the whole picture so bright to Elizabeth, for to
her the place was filled with the lovers who were walking there and
talking, probably saying those nothings, so far as practical matters go,
which they may indulge in freely only before the thousand cares of life
interfere with their utterances. Stephen had come to the house, and
Katie and he were taking what they were sure would prove to be their
last opportunity for quiet talk before the wedding. They went slowly
down the long path to the clematis arbor, and then turned back again,
for it was not warm enough to sit down out of doors. Elizabeth watched
them as they walked toward the house, and a warmth came into her own
face in her pleasure. "Dear Katie," she said to herself, "she is sure to
be so happy." The young girl's hand lay on Archdale's arm, and she was
looking up at him with a smile full of joyousness. Archdale's head was
bent and the watcher could not see his eyes, but his attitude of
devotion, his smile, and Katie's face told the story.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

       *       *       *       *       *

GLORIFYING TRIAL BY JURY.

By CHARLES COWLEY, LL.D.


Twice within two years representatives of the highest courts of
Massachusetts have published in the North American Review, panegyrics of
jurics and jury trials. The late Judge Foster and Judge Pitman both
concede--what indeed is too notorious to be denied--that there are
frequent and gross miscarriages of justice; but they touch lightly on
this aspect of the question. Being personally identified with the
institution which they extol, their self-complacency is neither
unnatural nor unpardonable. It seems not to have occurred to them, that
if a reform of our judiciary is really needed, they are "a part of the
thing to be reformed." But in weighing their testimony to the advantages
of trial by jury, allowance must be made for the bias of office and for
the bias of interest. In the idolatrous throng which drowned the voice
of St. Paul with their halcyon and vociferous shouts, "Great is Diana of
the Ephesians!" there was no one who shouted louder than the thrifty
silversmith, Demetrius, who added the naive remark, "By this craft we
live."

In the outset of his presentation of the beauties of jury trials, Judge
Pitman says that "certain elementary rules of law are so closely
associated with this system that change in one would require alteration
of the other." Now, these rules of law are either good or bad. If they
are bad, they should be revised; and the fact that they are so closely
associated with trial by jury, that they can not be amended without
injury thereto, adds little lustre to that time-honored institution. One
the other hand, if these "elementary rules of law" are good, it is
presumed that courts will be able to appreciate and apply them quite as
well as juries.

Judge Pitman then proceeds to argue that criminal trials without juries
would be attended with disadvantages, because he thinks that judges
would have, oftener than juries, that "reasonable doubt" which by law
entitles the accused to an acquittal. This warrants one of two
inferences: either the writer would have men convicted whose guilt is
involved in "reasonable doubt," or he fears that the learning and
experience of the bar and the bench tend to unfit the mind to weigh the
evidence of guilt or innocence. It is curious that in a former number of
the same Review, another learned writer expressed exactly the contrary
opinion.[A] Mr. Edward A. Thomas thinks that "judges are too much
inclined to convict persons charged with criminal offences," and that
juries are too much inclined to acquit them. And Judge Foster seemingly
agrees with Mr. Thomas upon this point.

[Footnote A: N.A. Review, No. CCCIV, March, 1882.]

Again: Judge Pitman argues that a jury is better qualified than a judge
to determine what is "due care." And Judge Foster, going still further,
says, "common men belonging to various walks in life, are, in most
cases, better fitted to decide correctly ordinary questions of fact
than any single judge or bench of judges." There are, unquestionably,
many cases in which the main questions are so entirely within the scope
of ordinary men's observation and experience that no special knowledge
is required to decide them. With respect to such cases, it is true that

  "A few strong instincts and a few plain rules
  Are worthy all the learning of the schools."

But where the questions involved are many in number, intricate and
complicated in character, and enveloped in a mass of conflicting
testimony requiring many days to hear it, is it not manifest that a
jury,--not one of whom has taken a note during the trial, some of whose
members have heard as though hearing not, and seen as though seeing not,
the testimony and the witnesses,--deals with such a case at a great
disadvantage, as compared with a judge whose notes contain all the
material testimony, and who has all the opportunity for rest and
relaxation that he may require before filing the finding which is his
verdict? With respect to such cases, it is clear that, as a learned
English judge has said, "the securities which can be taken for justice
in the case of a trial by a judge without a jury, are infinitely greater
than those which can be taken for trial by a judge and jury."[A] A judge
may be required to state what facts he finds, as well as the general
conclusion at which he has arrived, and to state upon what views of the
legal questions he has acted.

[Footnote A: Stephen's History of the Criminal Law, 568.]

Judge Foster most justly remarks: "There can be no such thing as a good
jury trial without the co-operation of a learned, upright, conscientious
and efficient presiding judge, ... holding firmly and steadily the
reins, and guiding the entire proceedings." This is what Judge Foster
was, and what Judge Pitman is, accustomed to do. But if the jury
requires such "guiding" from the court, and if the court is competent
thus to guide them, it is clear that the court must know the way and
must be able to follow it; otherwise it could not so guide the jury.

Judge Pitman also argues that the jury can eliminate "the personal
equation" better than the judge. But is this so? Does education count
for nothing in producing that calm, firm, passionless state of mind
which is essential in those who determine causes between party and
party?

Are not juries quite as often as judges swayed by popular clamor, by
prejudice, by appeals to their passions, and by considerations foreign
to the merits of the case? As Mr. Thomas asks in the article before
quoted: "How many juries are strictly impartial? How many remain
entirely uninfluenced by preference for one or the other of the parties,
one or the other counsel, or the leaning of some friend to either, or by
political affiliations, or church connections, or relations to secret
societies, or by what they have heard, or by what they have read? Can
they be as discerning and impartial as a bench of judges, or if inclined
to some bias or prejudice, can they as readily as a judge divest their
minds of such an impression?" If it be true that juries composed of such
material as Judge Pitman shows our juries to be largely composed of, are
as capable of mastering and determining intricate questions of fact as
judges trained to that duty, then we may truly say--

  "Thinking is but an idle waste of thought,
  And naught is everything, and everything is naught."

According to Judge Pitman, the system which prevails in some of the
states, of trials by the court without juries (with the provision that
the trial shall be by jury if either party demand it), "works
satisfactorily." The testimony of lawyers and litigants in
Massachusetts, Connecticut and other states where this system prevails,
is to the same effect. For ourselves, while far from desiring the
abolition of trial by jury, whether in civil or in criminal causes, we
are by no means disposed to "throw glamour" (as the Scotch say), over an
instrumentality for ascertaining legal truth, which is so cumbersome in
its operation, and so uncertain in its results. A jury is, at best, a
means, and not an end; and although much may be said about the
incidental usefulness of jury service on account of its tendency to
enlarge the intellectual horizon of jurors, all that is beside the main
question.

Whether a particular occurrence took place or not, is a question which,
whether it be tried by a judge or by a jury, must be decided upon
evidence; which consists, in part, of circumstances, and, in part, of
acts, but in part also, and very largely, of the sworn statements of
individuals. While falsehood and corruption prevail among all classes of
the community so extensively as they now do, it is useless to claim that
decisions based upon human testimony are always or generally correct.
Perjury is as rife as ever, and works as much wrong as ever. To a
conscientious judge, like Judge Pitman, "the investigation of a mass of
tangled facts and conflicting testimony" cannot but be wearisome, as he
says it is; and, in many cases, the sense of responsibility "cannot but
be oppressive;" but he has so often repeated a _dictum_ of Lord
Redesdale that he must be presumed to have found solace in it--"it is
more important that an end be put to litigation, than that justice
should be done in every case." There is truth in that _dictum_; but,
like other truths, it has often been abused, especially by incompetent
or lazy or drowsy judges. More unfortunate suitors have suffered as
martyrs to that truth than the judges who jauntily "cast" them would
admit.

Judges may do their best; juries may do their best; they will often fall
into error; and instead of glorifying themselves or the system of which
they are a part, it would be more modest in them to say, "We are
unprofitable servants." Not many judges have been great enough to say,
"I know I sometimes err," but some have said it. The lamented Judge Colt
said it publicly more than once, and the admission raised, rather than
lowered, him in the general esteem. When he died the voice of the bar
and of the people said, "Other judges have been revered, but we loved
Judge Colt."

Massachusetts gives her litigants the choice of a forum. All trials in
civil causes are by the courts alone, unless one party or the other
claims a jury. If the reader has a case of much complexity, either with
respect to the facts, or with respect to the law, perhaps he would like
to have our opinion as to which is the better forum. The answer is the
same that was given by one who lived at the parting of the ways, to a
weary traveller who inquired which fork of the road he should take:
"Both are full of snags, quagmires and pitfalls. No matter which you
take, before you reach the end of your journey you will wish you had
taken the other." In the trial by jury, and in the trial by the court,
just as in the trial by ordeal, and in the trial by battle in the days
of old, the element of chance is of the first magnitude.




PUBLISHERS' DEPARTMENT.

SENEFELDER, THE INVENTOR OF LITHOGRAPHY AND CHROMO-LITHOGRAPHY.--HIS ART
IN BOSTON DEVELOPED BY L. PRANG & CO.--COLOR-PRINTING ON SATIN, ETC.


A century ago the world knew nothing of the art of lithography;
color-printing was confined to comparatively crude products from wooden
blocks, most of which were hardly equal to the Japanese fan pictures now
familiar to all of us. The year 1799 gave us a new invention which was
destined to revolutionize reproductive art and add immensely to the
means for education, culture and enjoyment.

Alois Senefelder, born 1771, at Prague (Austria), started life with
writing plays, and too poor to pay a printer, he determined to invent a
process of his own which should serve to print his manuscript without
dependence upon the (to him) too costly types.

A born inventor, this Alois Senefelder, a genius, supported by boundless
hope, immense capability for hard, laborious work, and an indomitable
energy; he started with the plan of etching his writings in relief on
metal plates, to take impressions therefrom by means of rollers. He
found the metal too costly for his experiments; and limestone slabs from
the neighboring quarries--he living then in Munich--were tried as a
substitute. Although partly successful in this direction, he continued
through years of hard, and often disappointing trials, to find something
more complete. He hit upon the discovery that a printed sheet of paper
(new or old) moistened with a thin solution of gum Arabic would, when
dabbled over printers' ink, accept the ink from the dabbler only on its
printed parts and remain perfectly clean in the blank spaces, so that a
facsimile impression could be taken from this inked-in sheet. He found
that this operation might be repeated until the original print gave out
by wear. Here was a new discovery, based on the properties of attraction
and repulsion between fatty matters (printers ink), and the watery
solution of gum Arabic. The extremely delicate nature of the paper
matrix was a serious drawback, and had to be overcome. The slabs of
limestone which served Senefelder in a previous emergency were now
recurred to by him as an absorbent material similar to paper, and a
trial by making an impression from his above-mentioned paper matrix on
the stone, and subsequent gumming, convinced him that he was correct in
his surmise. By this act lithography became an established fact.

A few short years of intelligent experimenting revealed to him all the
possibilities of this new discovery. Inventions of processes followed
each other closely until in 1818 he disclosed to the world in a volume
of immortal interest not only a complete history of his invention and
his processes, but also a reliable description of the same for others to
follow. Nothing really new except photo-lithography has been added to
this charming art since that time; improvement only by manual skill and
by chemical progress, can be claimed by others.

Chromo-lithography (printing in colors from stone) was experimented on
by the great inventor. He outlined its possibilities by saying, that he
verily believed that printed pictures like paintings would sometimes be
made thereby, and whoever has seen the productions of our Boston firm,
L. Prang & Co., will bear him out in the verity of his prediction.

When Prang touched this art in 1856 it was in its infancy in this
country. Stray specimens of more or less merit had been produced,
especially by Martin Thurwanger (pen work) and Fabronius (crayon work),
but much was left to be perfected. A little bunch of roses to embellish
a ladies' magazine just starting in Boston, was the first work with
which the firm occupied its single press. Crude enough it was, but
diligence and energy soon developed therefrom the works which have
astonished not only this country but even Europe, and the firm, which
took thereby the lead in their speciality of art reproduction in color,
has succeeded in keeping it ever since from year to year without one
faltering step, until there is no single competitor in the civilized
world to dispute its mastery. This is something to be proud of, not only
for the firm in question, but even for the country at large, and to
crown its achievements, the firm of L. Prang & Co. have this year made,
apart from their usual wonderful variety of original Christmas cards and
other holiday art prints, a reproduction of a flower piece of the
celebrated Belgian flower painter, Jean Robie, and printed it on satin
by a process invented and patented by Mr. Prang. For truthfulness as a
copy this print challenges the admiration of our best artists and
connoisseurs. The gorgeous work as it lies before our eyes seems to us
to be as perfect as if it left the very brush of the master, and even in
close comparison with the original it does not lose an iota of its
charms.

Of the marvellous excellence of this, the latest achievement of this
remarkable house, thousands who visited the late exhibition of the
Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic's Association and saw Messrs. L. Prang
& Co.'s, extensive exhibit, can bear witness. Everybody who looked at
the two pictures, the original masterpiece by Robie and its reproduction
by Prang, side by side, was puzzled to distinguish which was which, many
pointing to the reproduction as the better, and in their eyes, therefore
as the original picture. The same was true with regard to many more of
this justly celebrated firm's reproductions, which they did not hesitate
to exhibit, alongside of the original paintings. Altogether, their
exhibit with its large collection of elegant satin prints, its studies
for artists, its historical feature, showing the enormous development of
the firm's work since 1856, its interesting illustration by successive
printings of how their pictures are made, and its instructive and
artistic arrangement of their collection, made it one of the most
attractive features of the fair.

What more can we say but that we are proud ourselves of this achievement
within our city limits; it cannot fail to increase the fame our beloved
Boston as a town of masters in thought and art. Honor to the firm of L.
Prang & Co.




NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS.


THE VOYAGE OF THE "VIVIAN" to the North Pole and Beyond, or Adventures
of Two Youths in the Open Polar sea. By COLONEL THOMAS W. KNOX, the
author of "The Boy Travellers in the Far East," "The Young Nimrods,"
etc. Illustrated; 8vo.; cloth, $3. Harper & Brothers, New York.

A fascinating story for boys, into which is woven by the graceful pen of
the author the history of Arctic exploration for centuries past. The
young readers who have followed the "Boy Travellers in the Far East"
will welcome this addition to the literature of adventure and travel.


LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE AIR, By the authors of "Little Playfellows."
Illustrated; 8vo., $1. D. Lothrop & Co., Boston.

A series of pretty stories of feathered songsters, for little men and
women, alike interesting to the young and children of an older growth.


POLITICS FOR YOUNG AMERICANS. By CHARLES NORDHOFF, author of "The
Communistic Societies of the United States," etc. Popular edition;
paper, 12mo., 400. Harper and Brothers, New York.

A series of essays in the form of letters, calculated to instruct the
youth of this country in their duty as American citizens.


A PERILOUS SECRET. By CHARLES READE. Cloth, 12mo.; 75 cents. Harper and
Brothers, New York.

This volume forms one of Harper's Household editions of the works of
this popular novelist.


THE ICE QUEEN. By ERNEST INGERSOLL, author of "Friends Worth Knowing,"
"Knocking Around the Rockies," etc. Illustrated; Cloth, 16mo., $1.
Harper and Brothers, New York.

A story for boys and girls of the adventures of a small party
storm-bound in winter, on a desolate island in Lake Erie.


GOD AND THE FUTURE LIFE; or the Reasonableness of Christianity. By
CHARLES NORDHOFF, author of "Politics for Young Americans," etc. 16mo.,
cloth, $1. Harper and Brothers, New York.

Paley's "Natural Theology," familiar to students, is supplemented by
this volume, which brings the argument down to the present developement
of science. It is a book for thoughtful men and women, whose faith in
the immortality of the soul needs strengthening.


MOTHERS IN COUNCIL. 16mo., cloth, $1. Harper and Brothers, New York.

A series of essays and discussions of value to the family circle,
teaching how sons can be brought up to be good husbands, and daughters
to be contented and useful old maids, and many other valuable lessons.


GOOD STORIES. By CHARLES READE, 16mo., cloth, $1. Harper and Brothers,
New York.

These short stories by Mr. Reade, some of which have appeared from time
to time in the Bazar, are here gathered in one volume. They are "The
History of an Acre," "The Knightsbridge Mystery," "Single Heart and
Double Face," and many others.


I SAY NO; or, the Love Letter Answered. By WILKIE COLLINS; 16mo.,
cloth,$1. Harper and Brothers, New York.

The announcement that a new novel from the pen of Mr. Collins has
appeared is enough to insure a large and steady demand for it.