ALBERT SHAW.

(‡ decoration)ALBERT SHAW.EDITOR OF THE “REVIEW OF REVIEWS.”IT seems, sometimes, that the influence of the editor has departed, and that notwithstanding the survival of a few men like Halstead and Reid, who helped to make the papers which moulded public opinion thirty years ago, the newspaper fills no such place as it did in the day of their prime, but a different place, not a lower or a less important one. Among the men who through the medium of the press are doing most to promote the spread of intelligence, and particularly to further the cause of good government and to elevate the civic life of our country, Albert Shaw fills a prominent place.Dr.Shaw is a young man of Western birth, tall and slender in figure, with a keen eye, a quick and rather nervous manner, and features expressing in an unusual degree intelligence, energy, and character. Born in Ohio, the central West,Dr.Shaw represents a catholicity of feeling and knowledge which very few Americans possess. He knows the whole country. He is not distinctly an Eastern man, a Western man, or a man of the Pacific slope: he is a man of America. He knows the characteristics of each section, its strength and its weakness. With New England blood in his veins, but with the energizing influences of the West about his boyhood,Dr.Shaw graduated at Iowa College, the oldest institution of its class west of the Mississippi. During his college life the future journalist and writer devoted a great deal of time to the study of literature and of literary style, disclosing very early two qualities which are pre-eminently characteristic of him to-day, lucidity and directness. After graduationDr.Shaw began his professional life as editor of “The Grinnell Herald,” a position which enabled him to master all the mechanical and routine work of journalism.His aims were not the aims of the ordinary journalist. He saw with unusual clearness the possibilities of his profession, and he saw also that he needed a wider educational basis. His interest in social and political topics was the interest of a man of philosophic mind, eager to learn the principles and not simply to record the varying aspects from day to day. In order the better to secure the equipment of which he felt the need, he entered the Johns Hopkins University and took a post-graduate course. It was during his residence in Baltimore that he met Professor Bryce, who recognized his rare ability and intelligence, and who used his unusually large knowledge of social and political conditions in the country. While carrying on his special studies at the Johns Hopkins University,Dr.Shaw joined theeditorial staff of the Minneapolis daily “Tribune.” After receiving the degree ofPh.D.in 1884, he removed permanently to Minneapolis, and took his place at the head of the staff of the “Tribune.” His work almost at once attracted attention. Its breadth, its thoroughness, its candor, and its ability were of a kind which made themselves recognized on the instant. Four years laterDr.Shaw spent a year and a half studying social and political conditions in Europe, traveling extensively and devoting much time to the examination of the condition of municipalities. It was this study which has borne fruit in the two volumes on Municipal Government which have come from the press of the Century Company, and which have givenDr.Shaw the first rank as an authority on these matters. When the “Review of Reviews” was established in this country in 1891,Dr.Shaw became its editor, and his success in the management of this very important periodical has justified the earlier expectations entertained by his friends, for he has given the “Review of Reviews” a commanding position. He is one of the very few journalists in this country who treat their work from the professional standpoint, who are thoroughly equipped for it, and who regard themselves as standing in a responsible relation to a great and intelligent public.Dr.Shaw’s presentation of news is pre-eminently full, candid, and unpartisan; his discussion of principles is broad-minded, rational, and persuasive. He is entirely free from the short-sighted partisanship of the great majority of newspaper editors, and he appreciates to the full the power of intelligent, judicial statement. His opinions, for this reason, carry great weight, and it is not too much to say that he has not his superior in the field of American journalism.RECENT DEVELOPMENT OF THE WEST.LET us imagine a man from the East who has visited the Northwestern States and Territories at some time between the years 1870 and 1875, and who retains a strong impression of what he saw, but who has not been west of Chicago since that time, until, in the World’s Fair year he determines upon a new exploration of Iowa, Nebraska, the Dakotas, Minnesota and Wisconsin. However well informed he had tried to keep himself through written descriptions and statistical records of Western progress, he would see what nothing but the evidence of his own eyes could have made him believe to be possible. Iowa in 1870 was already producing a large crop of cereals, and was inhabited by a thriving, though very new, farming population. But the aspect of the country was bare and uninviting, except in the vicinity of the older communities on the Mississippi River. As one advanced across the State the farmhouses were very small, and looked like isolated dry-goods boxes; there were few well-built barns or farm buildings; and the struggling young cottonwood and soft-maple saplings planted in close groves about the tiny houses were so slight an obstruction to the sweep of vision across the open prairie that they only seemed to emphasize the monotonous stretches of fertile, but uninteresting plain. Now the landscape is wholly transformed. A railroad ride in June through the best parts of Iowa reminds one of a ride through some of the pleasantest farming districts of England. The primitive “claim shanties” of thirty years ago have given place to commodious farm-houses flanked by great barns and hay-ricks, and the well-appointed structures of a prosperous agriculture. In the rich, deep meadows herds of fine-blooded cattle are grazing. What was once a blank, dreary landscape is now garden-like and inviting. The poor little saplings of the earlier days, which seemed to be apologizing to the robust corn-stalks in the neighboring fields, have grown on that deep soil into great, spreading trees. One can easily imagine, as he looks off in every direction and notes a wooded horizon, that he is—as in Ohio, Indiana, or Kentucky—in a farming regionwhich has been cleared out of primeval forests. There are many towns I might mention which twenty-five years ago, with their new, wooden shanties scattered over the bare face of the prairie, seemed the hottest place on earth as the summer sun beat upon their unshaded streets and roofs, and seemed the coldest places on earth when the fierce blizzards of winter swept unchecked across the prairie expanses. To-day the density of shade in those towns is deemed of positive detriment to health, and for several years past there has been a systematic thinning out and trimming up of the great, clustering elms. Trees of from six to ten feet in girth are found everywhere by the hundreds of thousands. Each farm-house is sheltered from winter winds by its own dense groves. Many of the farmers are able from the surplus growth of wood upon their estates to provide themselves with a large and regular supply of fuel. If I have dwelt at some length upon this picture of the transformation of the bleak, grain-producing Iowa prairies of thirty years ago into the dairy and live-stock farms of to-day, with their fragrant meadows and ample groves, it is because the picture is one which reveals so much as to the nature and meaning of Northwestern progress.The tendency to rely upon united public action is illustrated in the growth of Northwestern educational systems. The universities of these commonwealths are State universities. Professional education is under the State auspices and control. The normal schools and the agricultural schools belong to the State. The public high school provides intermediate instruction. The common district school, supported jointly by local taxation and State subvention, gives elementary education to the children of all classes. As the towns grow the tendency to graft manual and technical courses upon the ordinary public school curriculum is unmistakably strong. The Northwest, more than any other part of the country, is disposed to make every kind of education a public function.Radicalism has flourished in the homogeneous agricultural society of the Northwest. In the anti-monopoly conflict there seemed to have survived some of the intensity of feeling that characterized the anti-slavery movement; and a tinge of this fanatical quality has always been apparent in the Western and Northwestern monetary heresies. But it is in the temperance movement that this sweep of radical impulse has been most irresistible. It was natural that the movement should become political and take the form of an agitation for prohibition. The history of prohibition in Iowa, Kansas and the Dakotas, and of temperance legislation in Minnesota and Nebraska, reveals—even better perhaps than the history of the anti-monopoly movement—the radicalism, homogeneity, and powerful socializing tendencies of the Northwestern people. Between these different agitations there has been in reality no slight degree of relationship; at least their origin is to be traced to the same general condition of society.The extent to which a modern community resorts to State action depends in no small measure upon the accumulation of private resources. Public or organized initiative will be relatively strongest where the impulse to progress is positive but the ability of individuals is small. There are few rich men in the Northwest. Iowa, great as is the Hawkeye State, has no large city and no large fortunes. Of Kansas the same thing may be said. The Dakotas have no rich men and no cities. Minnesota has Minneapolis andSt.Paul, and Nebraska has Omaha; but otherwise these two States are farming communities, without large cities or concentrated private capital. Accordingly the recourse to public action is comparatively easy. South Dakota farmers desire to guard against drought by opening artesian wells for irrigation. They resort to State legislation and the sale of county bonds. North Dakota wheat growers are unfortunate in the failure of crops. They secure seed-wheat, through State action and their county governments. A similarity of condition fosters associated action, and facilitates the progress of popular movements.In such a society the spirit of action is intense. If there are few philosophers, there is remarkable diffusion of popular knowledge and elementary education. The dry atmosphere and the cold winters are nerve-stimulants, and life seems to have a higher tension and velocity than in other parts of the country.

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EDITOR OF THE “REVIEW OF REVIEWS.”

IT seems, sometimes, that the influence of the editor has departed, and that notwithstanding the survival of a few men like Halstead and Reid, who helped to make the papers which moulded public opinion thirty years ago, the newspaper fills no such place as it did in the day of their prime, but a different place, not a lower or a less important one. Among the men who through the medium of the press are doing most to promote the spread of intelligence, and particularly to further the cause of good government and to elevate the civic life of our country, Albert Shaw fills a prominent place.

Dr.Shaw is a young man of Western birth, tall and slender in figure, with a keen eye, a quick and rather nervous manner, and features expressing in an unusual degree intelligence, energy, and character. Born in Ohio, the central West,Dr.Shaw represents a catholicity of feeling and knowledge which very few Americans possess. He knows the whole country. He is not distinctly an Eastern man, a Western man, or a man of the Pacific slope: he is a man of America. He knows the characteristics of each section, its strength and its weakness. With New England blood in his veins, but with the energizing influences of the West about his boyhood,Dr.Shaw graduated at Iowa College, the oldest institution of its class west of the Mississippi. During his college life the future journalist and writer devoted a great deal of time to the study of literature and of literary style, disclosing very early two qualities which are pre-eminently characteristic of him to-day, lucidity and directness. After graduationDr.Shaw began his professional life as editor of “The Grinnell Herald,” a position which enabled him to master all the mechanical and routine work of journalism.

His aims were not the aims of the ordinary journalist. He saw with unusual clearness the possibilities of his profession, and he saw also that he needed a wider educational basis. His interest in social and political topics was the interest of a man of philosophic mind, eager to learn the principles and not simply to record the varying aspects from day to day. In order the better to secure the equipment of which he felt the need, he entered the Johns Hopkins University and took a post-graduate course. It was during his residence in Baltimore that he met Professor Bryce, who recognized his rare ability and intelligence, and who used his unusually large knowledge of social and political conditions in the country. While carrying on his special studies at the Johns Hopkins University,Dr.Shaw joined theeditorial staff of the Minneapolis daily “Tribune.” After receiving the degree ofPh.D.in 1884, he removed permanently to Minneapolis, and took his place at the head of the staff of the “Tribune.” His work almost at once attracted attention. Its breadth, its thoroughness, its candor, and its ability were of a kind which made themselves recognized on the instant. Four years laterDr.Shaw spent a year and a half studying social and political conditions in Europe, traveling extensively and devoting much time to the examination of the condition of municipalities. It was this study which has borne fruit in the two volumes on Municipal Government which have come from the press of the Century Company, and which have givenDr.Shaw the first rank as an authority on these matters. When the “Review of Reviews” was established in this country in 1891,Dr.Shaw became its editor, and his success in the management of this very important periodical has justified the earlier expectations entertained by his friends, for he has given the “Review of Reviews” a commanding position. He is one of the very few journalists in this country who treat their work from the professional standpoint, who are thoroughly equipped for it, and who regard themselves as standing in a responsible relation to a great and intelligent public.Dr.Shaw’s presentation of news is pre-eminently full, candid, and unpartisan; his discussion of principles is broad-minded, rational, and persuasive. He is entirely free from the short-sighted partisanship of the great majority of newspaper editors, and he appreciates to the full the power of intelligent, judicial statement. His opinions, for this reason, carry great weight, and it is not too much to say that he has not his superior in the field of American journalism.

RECENT DEVELOPMENT OF THE WEST.

LET us imagine a man from the East who has visited the Northwestern States and Territories at some time between the years 1870 and 1875, and who retains a strong impression of what he saw, but who has not been west of Chicago since that time, until, in the World’s Fair year he determines upon a new exploration of Iowa, Nebraska, the Dakotas, Minnesota and Wisconsin. However well informed he had tried to keep himself through written descriptions and statistical records of Western progress, he would see what nothing but the evidence of his own eyes could have made him believe to be possible. Iowa in 1870 was already producing a large crop of cereals, and was inhabited by a thriving, though very new, farming population. But the aspect of the country was bare and uninviting, except in the vicinity of the older communities on the Mississippi River. As one advanced across the State the farmhouses were very small, and looked like isolated dry-goods boxes; there were few well-built barns or farm buildings; and the struggling young cottonwood and soft-maple saplings planted in close groves about the tiny houses were so slight an obstruction to the sweep of vision across the open prairie that they only seemed to emphasize the monotonous stretches of fertile, but uninteresting plain. Now the landscape is wholly transformed. A railroad ride in June through the best parts of Iowa reminds one of a ride through some of the pleasantest farming districts of England. The primitive “claim shanties” of thirty years ago have given place to commodious farm-houses flanked by great barns and hay-ricks, and the well-appointed structures of a prosperous agriculture. In the rich, deep meadows herds of fine-blooded cattle are grazing. What was once a blank, dreary landscape is now garden-like and inviting. The poor little saplings of the earlier days, which seemed to be apologizing to the robust corn-stalks in the neighboring fields, have grown on that deep soil into great, spreading trees. One can easily imagine, as he looks off in every direction and notes a wooded horizon, that he is—as in Ohio, Indiana, or Kentucky—in a farming regionwhich has been cleared out of primeval forests. There are many towns I might mention which twenty-five years ago, with their new, wooden shanties scattered over the bare face of the prairie, seemed the hottest place on earth as the summer sun beat upon their unshaded streets and roofs, and seemed the coldest places on earth when the fierce blizzards of winter swept unchecked across the prairie expanses. To-day the density of shade in those towns is deemed of positive detriment to health, and for several years past there has been a systematic thinning out and trimming up of the great, clustering elms. Trees of from six to ten feet in girth are found everywhere by the hundreds of thousands. Each farm-house is sheltered from winter winds by its own dense groves. Many of the farmers are able from the surplus growth of wood upon their estates to provide themselves with a large and regular supply of fuel. If I have dwelt at some length upon this picture of the transformation of the bleak, grain-producing Iowa prairies of thirty years ago into the dairy and live-stock farms of to-day, with their fragrant meadows and ample groves, it is because the picture is one which reveals so much as to the nature and meaning of Northwestern progress.The tendency to rely upon united public action is illustrated in the growth of Northwestern educational systems. The universities of these commonwealths are State universities. Professional education is under the State auspices and control. The normal schools and the agricultural schools belong to the State. The public high school provides intermediate instruction. The common district school, supported jointly by local taxation and State subvention, gives elementary education to the children of all classes. As the towns grow the tendency to graft manual and technical courses upon the ordinary public school curriculum is unmistakably strong. The Northwest, more than any other part of the country, is disposed to make every kind of education a public function.Radicalism has flourished in the homogeneous agricultural society of the Northwest. In the anti-monopoly conflict there seemed to have survived some of the intensity of feeling that characterized the anti-slavery movement; and a tinge of this fanatical quality has always been apparent in the Western and Northwestern monetary heresies. But it is in the temperance movement that this sweep of radical impulse has been most irresistible. It was natural that the movement should become political and take the form of an agitation for prohibition. The history of prohibition in Iowa, Kansas and the Dakotas, and of temperance legislation in Minnesota and Nebraska, reveals—even better perhaps than the history of the anti-monopoly movement—the radicalism, homogeneity, and powerful socializing tendencies of the Northwestern people. Between these different agitations there has been in reality no slight degree of relationship; at least their origin is to be traced to the same general condition of society.The extent to which a modern community resorts to State action depends in no small measure upon the accumulation of private resources. Public or organized initiative will be relatively strongest where the impulse to progress is positive but the ability of individuals is small. There are few rich men in the Northwest. Iowa, great as is the Hawkeye State, has no large city and no large fortunes. Of Kansas the same thing may be said. The Dakotas have no rich men and no cities. Minnesota has Minneapolis andSt.Paul, and Nebraska has Omaha; but otherwise these two States are farming communities, without large cities or concentrated private capital. Accordingly the recourse to public action is comparatively easy. South Dakota farmers desire to guard against drought by opening artesian wells for irrigation. They resort to State legislation and the sale of county bonds. North Dakota wheat growers are unfortunate in the failure of crops. They secure seed-wheat, through State action and their county governments. A similarity of condition fosters associated action, and facilitates the progress of popular movements.In such a society the spirit of action is intense. If there are few philosophers, there is remarkable diffusion of popular knowledge and elementary education. The dry atmosphere and the cold winters are nerve-stimulants, and life seems to have a higher tension and velocity than in other parts of the country.

The tendency to rely upon united public action is illustrated in the growth of Northwestern educational systems. The universities of these commonwealths are State universities. Professional education is under the State auspices and control. The normal schools and the agricultural schools belong to the State. The public high school provides intermediate instruction. The common district school, supported jointly by local taxation and State subvention, gives elementary education to the children of all classes. As the towns grow the tendency to graft manual and technical courses upon the ordinary public school curriculum is unmistakably strong. The Northwest, more than any other part of the country, is disposed to make every kind of education a public function.

Radicalism has flourished in the homogeneous agricultural society of the Northwest. In the anti-monopoly conflict there seemed to have survived some of the intensity of feeling that characterized the anti-slavery movement; and a tinge of this fanatical quality has always been apparent in the Western and Northwestern monetary heresies. But it is in the temperance movement that this sweep of radical impulse has been most irresistible. It was natural that the movement should become political and take the form of an agitation for prohibition. The history of prohibition in Iowa, Kansas and the Dakotas, and of temperance legislation in Minnesota and Nebraska, reveals—even better perhaps than the history of the anti-monopoly movement—the radicalism, homogeneity, and powerful socializing tendencies of the Northwestern people. Between these different agitations there has been in reality no slight degree of relationship; at least their origin is to be traced to the same general condition of society.

The extent to which a modern community resorts to State action depends in no small measure upon the accumulation of private resources. Public or organized initiative will be relatively strongest where the impulse to progress is positive but the ability of individuals is small. There are few rich men in the Northwest. Iowa, great as is the Hawkeye State, has no large city and no large fortunes. Of Kansas the same thing may be said. The Dakotas have no rich men and no cities. Minnesota has Minneapolis andSt.Paul, and Nebraska has Omaha; but otherwise these two States are farming communities, without large cities or concentrated private capital. Accordingly the recourse to public action is comparatively easy. South Dakota farmers desire to guard against drought by opening artesian wells for irrigation. They resort to State legislation and the sale of county bonds. North Dakota wheat growers are unfortunate in the failure of crops. They secure seed-wheat, through State action and their county governments. A similarity of condition fosters associated action, and facilitates the progress of popular movements.

In such a society the spirit of action is intense. If there are few philosophers, there is remarkable diffusion of popular knowledge and elementary education. The dry atmosphere and the cold winters are nerve-stimulants, and life seems to have a higher tension and velocity than in other parts of the country.

(‡ decoration)JULIAN HAWTHORNE.THE POPULAR NOVELIST AND CONTRIBUTOR.JULIAN HAWTHORNE has inherited much of his father’s literary ability. His recent celebrity has been largely due to his success in portraying to the readers of popular magazines facts of world-wide interest like the famine in India, but to the special power of vivid statement which belongs to the newspaper reporter, he joins the imaginative power which enables him to recognize the materials of romance and the gift of clear and graceful expression. He is the son of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and was born in Boston in 1846. He traveled abroad with his parents, returning and entering Harvard in 1863. His college life seems to have been devoted more to athletics than to serious learning. He took up the study of civil engineering and went to Dresden to carry it on, but the Franco-Prussian war breaking out while he was visiting at home, he found employment as an engineer under General George B. McClellan in the department of docks in New York. He began soon after to write stories and sketches for the magazines, and losing his position in 1872, he determined to devote himself to literature. He now went abroad, living for several years, first in England and then in Dresden, and again in England, where he remained until 1881, and then after a short stay in Ireland, returned to New York. A number of his stories were published while he was abroad. Of these the most important were “Bressant” and “Idolatry.” For two years he was connected with the London “Spectator,” and he contributed to the “Contemporary Review” a series of sketches called “Saxon Studies,” which were afterwards published in book form. The novel “Garth” followed and collections of stories and novelettes entitled “The Laughing Mill;” “Archibald Malmaison;” “Ellice Quentin;” “Prince Saroni’s Wife;” and the “Yellow Cap” fairy stories. These were all published abroad, but a part of them were afterward reprinted in America. Later he published “Sebastian Strome;” “Fortune’s Fool,” and in 1884 “Dust” and “Noble Blood.” On his return to America he edited his father’s posthumous romance “Dr.Grimshaw’s Secret,” and prepared the biography of his father and mother. Since that time he has contributed a large number of stories and sketches to magazines. His most recent work has been an expedition to India to write for American periodicals an account of the famine in that country. One of our extracts is taken from this account and will very adequately illustrate his power of telling things so that his readers can see them with his eyes.Mr.♦Hawthorne’s activity doesnot abate and his friends and admirers expect from him even better work than he has yet done.♦“Hawthrone’s” replaced with “Hawthorne’s”THE WAYSIDE AND THEWAR.¹(FROM “NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE AND HIS WIFE.”)¹Copyright, Ticknor &Co.IT was a hot day towards the close of June, 1860, when Hawthorne alighted from a train at Concord station, and drove up in the railway wagon to the Wayside. The fields looked brown, the trees were dusty, and the sun white and brilliant. At certain seasons in Concord the heat stagnates and simmers, until it seems as if nothing but a grasshopper could live. The water in the river is so warm that to bathe in it is merely to exchange one kind of heat for another. The very shadow of the trees is torrid; and I have known the thermometer to touch 112° in the shade. No breeze stirs throughout the long sultry day; and the feverish nights bring mosquitoes, but no relief. To come from the salt freshness of the Atlantic into this living oven is a startling change, especially when one has his memory full of cool, green England. Such was America’s first greeting to Hawthorne, on his return from a seven years’ absence; it was to this that he had looked forward so lovingly and so long. As he passed one little wooden house after another, with their white clap boards and their green blinds, perhaps he found his thoughts not quite so cloudless as the sky. It is dangerous to have a home; too much is required of it.The Wayside, however, was not white, it was painted a dingy buff color. The larches and Norway pines, several hundred of which had been sent out from England, were planted along the paths, and were for the most part doing well. The well-remembered hillside, with its rude terraces, shadowed by apple-trees, and its summit green with pines, rose behind the house; and in front, on the other side of the highway, extended a broad meadow of seven acres, bounded by a brook, above which hung drooping willows. It was, upon the whole, as pleasant a place as any in the village, and much might be done to enhance its beauty. It had been occupied, during our absence, by a brother ofMrs.Hawthorne; and the house itself was in excellent order, and looked just the same as in our last memory of it. A good many alterations have been made since then; another story was added to the western wing, the tower was built up behind, and two other rooms were put on in the rear. These changes, together with some modifications about the place, such as opening up of paths, the cutting down of some trees, and the planting of others, were among the last things that engaged Hawthorne’s attention in this life.FIRST MONTHS INENGLAND.¹FROM “NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE AND HIS WIFE.”¹Copyright, Ticknor &Co.WE are told, truly enough, that goodness does not always command good fortune in this world, that just hopes are often deferred until it is too late to enjoy their realization, that fame and honor only discover a man after he has ceased to value them; and a large and respectable portion of modern fiction is occupied in impressing these sober lessons upon us. It is pleasant, nevertheless, to believe that sometimes fate condescends not to be so unmitigable, and that a cloudy and gusty morning does occasionally brighten into a sunny and genial afternoon. Too long a course of apparently perverse and unreasonable accidents bewilders the mind, and the few and fleeting gleams of compensation seem a mockery. One source of the perennial charm of Goldsmith’s “Vicar of Wakefield” is, I think, that in it the dividing line between the good and the bad fortune is so distinctly drawn. Just when a man has done his utmost, and all seems lost, Providence steps in, brings aid from the most unexpected quarter, and kindles everything into brighter and ever brighter prosperity. The action and reaction are positive and complete, and we arise refreshed and comforted from the experience.It was somewhat thus with Hawthorne, though the picture of his career is to be painted in a lower and more delicate tone than that of Goldsmith’s brilliant little canvas. Up to the time of publication of “The Scarlet Letter,” his external circumstances had certainly been growing more and more unpromising; though, on the other hand, his inner domestic life had been full of the most vital and tender satisfactions. But the date of his first popular success in literature also marks the commencement of a worldly prosperity which, though never by any means splendid (as we shall presently see), at any rate sufficed to allay the immediate anxiety about to-morrow’s bread-and-butter, from which he had not hitherto been free. The three American novels were written and published in rapid succession, and were reprinted in England, the first two being pirated; but for the last, “The Blithedale Romance,” two hundred pounds were obtained fromMessrs.Chapman and Hall for advance sheets. There is every reason to believe that during the ensuing years other romances would have been written; and perhaps they would have been as good as, or better than, those that went before. But it is vain to speculate as to what might have been. What actually happened was that Hawthorne was appointed United States Consul to Liverpool, and for six years to come his literary exercises were confined to his consular despatches and to six or eight volumes of his English, French and Italian Journals. It was a long abstinence; possibly it was a beneficent one. The production of such books as “The Scarlet Letter” and “The House of Seven Gables” cannot go on indefinitely; though they seem to be easily written when theyarewritten, they represent a great deal of the writer’s spiritual existence. At all events, it is better to write too little than too much.THE HORRORS OF THE PLAGUE IN INDIA.(FROM THE “COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE.”)IMET the local inspectors at the railway station leading a horse which they had kindly provided for me. We made a tour of half a dozen villages, alighting to investigate anything that appeared suspicious. The first and largest of the villages rambles along on either side of a street scarcely wider than an ordinary footpath. The houses were mud huts, whitewashed, or built of a kind of rubble, with the roofs of loose tiles common in India. Cocoa palms were numerous all over the region, and there were solid groves of them outside the settlements, coming down to the water’s edge. The inhabitants for the most part professed the Roman Catholic faith; crosses stood at every meeting of the ways, and priests in black gowns with wide-brimmed black hats stole past us occasionally. Of native inhabitants, however, we saw very few; those who were not in the graveyards had locked up their houses and fled the town. All the houses in which death or sickness had occurred had been already visited by the inspectors, emptied of their contents and disinfected. Those which were still occupied were kept under strict supervision. One which had been occupied the day before was now found to be shut. The inspectors called up a native and questioned him. From his replies it appeared that there had been symptoms of the disease. We dismounted and made an examination. Every door and window was fastened, but by forcing open a blind we were able to see the interior. It was empty of life and of most of the movable furniture; but the floor of dried mud was strewn with the dead carcasses of rats. Undoubtedly the plague had been here. The house was marked for destruction, and we proceeded.Low, flat ledges of rock extended into the sea. A group of creatures in loin-cloths and red turbans were squatting or moving about between two or three heaps of burning timber. These were made of stout logs piled across one another to a height of about four feet. Half-way in the pile was placed a human body; it was not entirely covered by the wood, but a leg projected here, an arm there. The flames blazed up fiercely, their flickering red tongues contrasting with the pale blue of the calm sea beyond. The smoke arose thick and unctuous, and, fortunately, was carried seaward. One of the pyres had burnt down to white ashes, and nothing recognizable as human remained. The people whose bodies were here burned had died in the segregation huts the night before.

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THE POPULAR NOVELIST AND CONTRIBUTOR.

JULIAN HAWTHORNE has inherited much of his father’s literary ability. His recent celebrity has been largely due to his success in portraying to the readers of popular magazines facts of world-wide interest like the famine in India, but to the special power of vivid statement which belongs to the newspaper reporter, he joins the imaginative power which enables him to recognize the materials of romance and the gift of clear and graceful expression. He is the son of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and was born in Boston in 1846. He traveled abroad with his parents, returning and entering Harvard in 1863. His college life seems to have been devoted more to athletics than to serious learning. He took up the study of civil engineering and went to Dresden to carry it on, but the Franco-Prussian war breaking out while he was visiting at home, he found employment as an engineer under General George B. McClellan in the department of docks in New York. He began soon after to write stories and sketches for the magazines, and losing his position in 1872, he determined to devote himself to literature. He now went abroad, living for several years, first in England and then in Dresden, and again in England, where he remained until 1881, and then after a short stay in Ireland, returned to New York. A number of his stories were published while he was abroad. Of these the most important were “Bressant” and “Idolatry.” For two years he was connected with the London “Spectator,” and he contributed to the “Contemporary Review” a series of sketches called “Saxon Studies,” which were afterwards published in book form. The novel “Garth” followed and collections of stories and novelettes entitled “The Laughing Mill;” “Archibald Malmaison;” “Ellice Quentin;” “Prince Saroni’s Wife;” and the “Yellow Cap” fairy stories. These were all published abroad, but a part of them were afterward reprinted in America. Later he published “Sebastian Strome;” “Fortune’s Fool,” and in 1884 “Dust” and “Noble Blood.” On his return to America he edited his father’s posthumous romance “Dr.Grimshaw’s Secret,” and prepared the biography of his father and mother. Since that time he has contributed a large number of stories and sketches to magazines. His most recent work has been an expedition to India to write for American periodicals an account of the famine in that country. One of our extracts is taken from this account and will very adequately illustrate his power of telling things so that his readers can see them with his eyes.Mr.♦Hawthorne’s activity doesnot abate and his friends and admirers expect from him even better work than he has yet done.

♦“Hawthrone’s” replaced with “Hawthorne’s”

THE WAYSIDE AND THEWAR.¹

(FROM “NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE AND HIS WIFE.”)

¹Copyright, Ticknor &Co.

IT was a hot day towards the close of June, 1860, when Hawthorne alighted from a train at Concord station, and drove up in the railway wagon to the Wayside. The fields looked brown, the trees were dusty, and the sun white and brilliant. At certain seasons in Concord the heat stagnates and simmers, until it seems as if nothing but a grasshopper could live. The water in the river is so warm that to bathe in it is merely to exchange one kind of heat for another. The very shadow of the trees is torrid; and I have known the thermometer to touch 112° in the shade. No breeze stirs throughout the long sultry day; and the feverish nights bring mosquitoes, but no relief. To come from the salt freshness of the Atlantic into this living oven is a startling change, especially when one has his memory full of cool, green England. Such was America’s first greeting to Hawthorne, on his return from a seven years’ absence; it was to this that he had looked forward so lovingly and so long. As he passed one little wooden house after another, with their white clap boards and their green blinds, perhaps he found his thoughts not quite so cloudless as the sky. It is dangerous to have a home; too much is required of it.The Wayside, however, was not white, it was painted a dingy buff color. The larches and Norway pines, several hundred of which had been sent out from England, were planted along the paths, and were for the most part doing well. The well-remembered hillside, with its rude terraces, shadowed by apple-trees, and its summit green with pines, rose behind the house; and in front, on the other side of the highway, extended a broad meadow of seven acres, bounded by a brook, above which hung drooping willows. It was, upon the whole, as pleasant a place as any in the village, and much might be done to enhance its beauty. It had been occupied, during our absence, by a brother ofMrs.Hawthorne; and the house itself was in excellent order, and looked just the same as in our last memory of it. A good many alterations have been made since then; another story was added to the western wing, the tower was built up behind, and two other rooms were put on in the rear. These changes, together with some modifications about the place, such as opening up of paths, the cutting down of some trees, and the planting of others, were among the last things that engaged Hawthorne’s attention in this life.

The Wayside, however, was not white, it was painted a dingy buff color. The larches and Norway pines, several hundred of which had been sent out from England, were planted along the paths, and were for the most part doing well. The well-remembered hillside, with its rude terraces, shadowed by apple-trees, and its summit green with pines, rose behind the house; and in front, on the other side of the highway, extended a broad meadow of seven acres, bounded by a brook, above which hung drooping willows. It was, upon the whole, as pleasant a place as any in the village, and much might be done to enhance its beauty. It had been occupied, during our absence, by a brother ofMrs.Hawthorne; and the house itself was in excellent order, and looked just the same as in our last memory of it. A good many alterations have been made since then; another story was added to the western wing, the tower was built up behind, and two other rooms were put on in the rear. These changes, together with some modifications about the place, such as opening up of paths, the cutting down of some trees, and the planting of others, were among the last things that engaged Hawthorne’s attention in this life.

FIRST MONTHS INENGLAND.¹

FROM “NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE AND HIS WIFE.”

¹Copyright, Ticknor &Co.

WE are told, truly enough, that goodness does not always command good fortune in this world, that just hopes are often deferred until it is too late to enjoy their realization, that fame and honor only discover a man after he has ceased to value them; and a large and respectable portion of modern fiction is occupied in impressing these sober lessons upon us. It is pleasant, nevertheless, to believe that sometimes fate condescends not to be so unmitigable, and that a cloudy and gusty morning does occasionally brighten into a sunny and genial afternoon. Too long a course of apparently perverse and unreasonable accidents bewilders the mind, and the few and fleeting gleams of compensation seem a mockery. One source of the perennial charm of Goldsmith’s “Vicar of Wakefield” is, I think, that in it the dividing line between the good and the bad fortune is so distinctly drawn. Just when a man has done his utmost, and all seems lost, Providence steps in, brings aid from the most unexpected quarter, and kindles everything into brighter and ever brighter prosperity. The action and reaction are positive and complete, and we arise refreshed and comforted from the experience.It was somewhat thus with Hawthorne, though the picture of his career is to be painted in a lower and more delicate tone than that of Goldsmith’s brilliant little canvas. Up to the time of publication of “The Scarlet Letter,” his external circumstances had certainly been growing more and more unpromising; though, on the other hand, his inner domestic life had been full of the most vital and tender satisfactions. But the date of his first popular success in literature also marks the commencement of a worldly prosperity which, though never by any means splendid (as we shall presently see), at any rate sufficed to allay the immediate anxiety about to-morrow’s bread-and-butter, from which he had not hitherto been free. The three American novels were written and published in rapid succession, and were reprinted in England, the first two being pirated; but for the last, “The Blithedale Romance,” two hundred pounds were obtained fromMessrs.Chapman and Hall for advance sheets. There is every reason to believe that during the ensuing years other romances would have been written; and perhaps they would have been as good as, or better than, those that went before. But it is vain to speculate as to what might have been. What actually happened was that Hawthorne was appointed United States Consul to Liverpool, and for six years to come his literary exercises were confined to his consular despatches and to six or eight volumes of his English, French and Italian Journals. It was a long abstinence; possibly it was a beneficent one. The production of such books as “The Scarlet Letter” and “The House of Seven Gables” cannot go on indefinitely; though they seem to be easily written when theyarewritten, they represent a great deal of the writer’s spiritual existence. At all events, it is better to write too little than too much.

It was somewhat thus with Hawthorne, though the picture of his career is to be painted in a lower and more delicate tone than that of Goldsmith’s brilliant little canvas. Up to the time of publication of “The Scarlet Letter,” his external circumstances had certainly been growing more and more unpromising; though, on the other hand, his inner domestic life had been full of the most vital and tender satisfactions. But the date of his first popular success in literature also marks the commencement of a worldly prosperity which, though never by any means splendid (as we shall presently see), at any rate sufficed to allay the immediate anxiety about to-morrow’s bread-and-butter, from which he had not hitherto been free. The three American novels were written and published in rapid succession, and were reprinted in England, the first two being pirated; but for the last, “The Blithedale Romance,” two hundred pounds were obtained fromMessrs.Chapman and Hall for advance sheets. There is every reason to believe that during the ensuing years other romances would have been written; and perhaps they would have been as good as, or better than, those that went before. But it is vain to speculate as to what might have been. What actually happened was that Hawthorne was appointed United States Consul to Liverpool, and for six years to come his literary exercises were confined to his consular despatches and to six or eight volumes of his English, French and Italian Journals. It was a long abstinence; possibly it was a beneficent one. The production of such books as “The Scarlet Letter” and “The House of Seven Gables” cannot go on indefinitely; though they seem to be easily written when theyarewritten, they represent a great deal of the writer’s spiritual existence. At all events, it is better to write too little than too much.

THE HORRORS OF THE PLAGUE IN INDIA.

(FROM THE “COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE.”)

IMET the local inspectors at the railway station leading a horse which they had kindly provided for me. We made a tour of half a dozen villages, alighting to investigate anything that appeared suspicious. The first and largest of the villages rambles along on either side of a street scarcely wider than an ordinary footpath. The houses were mud huts, whitewashed, or built of a kind of rubble, with the roofs of loose tiles common in India. Cocoa palms were numerous all over the region, and there were solid groves of them outside the settlements, coming down to the water’s edge. The inhabitants for the most part professed the Roman Catholic faith; crosses stood at every meeting of the ways, and priests in black gowns with wide-brimmed black hats stole past us occasionally. Of native inhabitants, however, we saw very few; those who were not in the graveyards had locked up their houses and fled the town. All the houses in which death or sickness had occurred had been already visited by the inspectors, emptied of their contents and disinfected. Those which were still occupied were kept under strict supervision. One which had been occupied the day before was now found to be shut. The inspectors called up a native and questioned him. From his replies it appeared that there had been symptoms of the disease. We dismounted and made an examination. Every door and window was fastened, but by forcing open a blind we were able to see the interior. It was empty of life and of most of the movable furniture; but the floor of dried mud was strewn with the dead carcasses of rats. Undoubtedly the plague had been here. The house was marked for destruction, and we proceeded.Low, flat ledges of rock extended into the sea. A group of creatures in loin-cloths and red turbans were squatting or moving about between two or three heaps of burning timber. These were made of stout logs piled across one another to a height of about four feet. Half-way in the pile was placed a human body; it was not entirely covered by the wood, but a leg projected here, an arm there. The flames blazed up fiercely, their flickering red tongues contrasting with the pale blue of the calm sea beyond. The smoke arose thick and unctuous, and, fortunately, was carried seaward. One of the pyres had burnt down to white ashes, and nothing recognizable as human remained. The people whose bodies were here burned had died in the segregation huts the night before.

Low, flat ledges of rock extended into the sea. A group of creatures in loin-cloths and red turbans were squatting or moving about between two or three heaps of burning timber. These were made of stout logs piled across one another to a height of about four feet. Half-way in the pile was placed a human body; it was not entirely covered by the wood, but a leg projected here, an arm there. The flames blazed up fiercely, their flickering red tongues contrasting with the pale blue of the calm sea beyond. The smoke arose thick and unctuous, and, fortunately, was carried seaward. One of the pyres had burnt down to white ashes, and nothing recognizable as human remained. The people whose bodies were here burned had died in the segregation huts the night before.

(‡ decoration)RICHARD HARDING DAVIS.RICHARD HARDING DAVIS has shown a marvelous skill in seeing the world, in travel, and of describing it as he sees it. He is not a profound student of the mystery of the human mind, but he possesses in high degree and in rare quality an instinct of selection, a clear sense of an artistic situation in a group of more or less ordinary circumstances and a gift in interesting description. He is, in short, a very clever newspaper reporter who has transferred his field of service from the region of the actual to the realm of the imaginary. His reputation, however, is about equally divided between his works of description and travel and his stories of a more imaginative order, though in both classes of writings, he is above everything else a describer of what he has seen.He was born in Philadelphia in 1864, the son of L. Clark Davis, an editor of reputation, and Rebecca Harding Davis, the author of many good stories, so that the child had a literary inheritance and an hereditary bent for letters. He studied for three years in Lehigh University and one year in Johns Hopkins, after which he began his interesting career as a journalist, serving successively “The Record,” “Press,” and “Telegraph” of Philadelphia. On his return from a European trip, he became connected with the New York “Evening Sun,” for which he wrote the famous series of “Van Bibber Sketches.”The story, however, which gave him his first real fame was “Gallegher,” the scene of which is laid in Philadelphia, though, as is true of all his stories, locality plays but little part in his tales, modes of life and not scenery being the main feature.He describes the happy-go-lucky life of the young club man, adventures in saloons, and scenes among burglars with remarkable realism, for as reporter he lived for a time among the “reprobates,” in disguise, to make a careful study of their manner of life. Again when he describes “The West from a Car Window,” he is giving scenes which he saw and types of life which he closely observed. His books always have the distinctive mark of spirit; they are full of life and activity, everything moves on and something “happens.” This is as true of his books of travel as of his stories. He has traveled extensively, and he has given descriptions of most of his journeys.Beside “The West from a Car Window” he has written, with the same reportorial skill and fidelity to observed facts, a book of descriptions of life and manners in the East, with scenes and incidents at Gibraltar and Tangiers, in Cairo, Athens and Constantinople.He has also produced a book of travels in England, which touches rather the surface of English life than the deeper traits of character which Emerson has so faithfully described. Davis writes as reporter of what is easily observed, while the other writes as philosopher. His latest collection of stories which shows his storytelling faculties at their best is called “The Exiles and Other Stories.” His most recent service as a journalist was as correspondent of “The London Times,” with the Greek forces during their recent humiliating conflict with the Turks. The selection given below will illustrate his vigorous style and the vivid character of his descriptions.THE GREEK DEFENCE OF VELESTINO.(FROM THE “LONDON TIMES.”)THERE is a round hill to the north of the town, standing quite alone. It has a perfectly flat top, and its proportions are exactly those of a giant bucket set upside down. We found the upper end of this bucket crowded with six mountain guns [there was one other correspondent withMr.Davis at the time], and the battery was protesting violently. When it had uttered its protest the guns would throw themselves into the air, and would turn a complete somersault, as though with delight at the mischief they had done, or would whirl themselves upon one wheel while the other spun rapidly in the air. Lieutenant Ambroise Frantzis was in command of the battery. It was he who had repulsed a Turkish cavalry charge of a few days before with this same battery, and he was as polite and calm and pleased with his excitable little guns as though they weighed a hundred tons each, and could send a shell nine miles instead of a scant three thousand yards.“From this hill there was nothing to be seen of the Turks but puffs of smoke in the plain, so we slid down its steep side and clambered up the ridges in front of us, where long rows of infantry were outlined against the sky.... A bare-headed peasant boy, in dirty white petticoats, who seemed to consider the engagement in the light of an entertainment, came dancing down the hill to show us the foot-paths that led up the different ridges. He was one of the villagers who had not run away or who was not farther up the valley, taking pot-shots at the hated Turks from behind rocks. He talked and laughed as he ran ahead of us, with many gestures, and imitated mockingly the sound of the bullets, and warned us with grave solicitude to be careful, as though he was in no possible danger himself. I saw him a great many times during the day, guiding company after company through the gulleys, and showing them how to advance protected by the slope of the hills—a self-constituted scout—and with much the manner of a landed proprietor escorting visitors over his estate. And whenever a shell struck near him, he would run and retrieve the pieces, and lay them triumphantly at the feet of the officers, like a little fox-terrier that has scampered after a stick and brought it to his master’s feet.“The men in the first trench—which was the only one which gave us a clear view of the Turkish forces—received us with cheerful nods and scraped out a place beside them, and covered the moist earth with their blankets. They exhibited a sort of childish pride and satisfaction at being under fire; and so far from showing the nervousness and shattered morale which had been prophesied for them after the rout at Larissa, they appeared on the contrary more than content. As the day wore on, they became even languidly bored with it all, and some sang in a low crooning tone, and others, in spite of the incessant rush of the shells, dozed in the full glare of the sun, and still others lay humped and crouched against the earthworks when the projectiles tore up the earth on the hill behind us. But when the order came to fire, they would scramble to their knees with alacrity, and many of them would continue firing on their own account, long after the whistle had sounded to cease firing. Some of the officers walked up and down, and directed the men in the trenches at their feet with the air of judges or time-keepers at an athletic meeting, who were observing a tug-of-war. Others exposedthemselves in what looked like a spirit of braggadocio, for they moved with a swagger and called upon the men to notice how brave they were. Other officers rose only when it was necessary to observe some fresh movement upon the part of the enemy, and they did this without the least haste and simply as a part of their work, and regarded the bullets that instantly beset them as little as if they were so many flies.“A Turkish soldier dragging a mule loaded with ammunition had appeared a quarter of a mile below us, and at sight of him the soldiers at once recognized that there was something tangible, something that could show some sign if they hit it. The white smoke they had aimed at before had floated away, but at the sight of this individual soldier the entire line ceased firing at the enemy’s trenches, and opened on the unhappy Turk and his mule, and as the dust spurted up at points nearer and nearer to where he stood, their excitement increased in proportion, until, when he gave the mule a kick and ran for his life, there was a triumphant shout all along the line, as though they had repulsed a regiment. That one man and his load of ammunition had for a few minutes represented to them the entire Turkish army.“As the Turks suddenly appeared below us, clambering out of a long gully, it was as though they had sprung from the earth. On the moment the smiling landscape changed like a scene at a theatre, and hundreds of men rose from what had apparently been deserted hilltops, and stood outlined in♦silhouette against the sunset, waves of smoke ran from crest to crest, spitting flashes of red flame, and men’s voices shrieked and shouted, and the Turkish shells raced each other so fiercely that they beat out the air until it groaned. It had come up so suddenly that it was like two dogs springing at each other’s throats, and, in a greater degree, it had something of the sound of two wild animals struggling for life. Volley answered volley as though with personal hate—one crashing in upon the roll of the other, or beating it out of recognition with the bursting roar of heavy cannon; and to those who could do nothing but lie face downwards and listen to it, it seemed as though they had been caught in a burning building, and that the walls and roof were falling in on them. I do not know how long it lasted—probably not more than five minutes, although it seemed much longer than that—but finally the death-grip seemed to relax, the volleys came brokenly, like a man panting for breath, the bullets ceased to sound with the hiss of escaping steam, and rustled aimlessly by, and from hilltop to hilltop the officers’ whistles sounded as though a sportsman were calling off his dogs. The Turks had been driven back, and for the fourth day the Greeks had held Velestino successfully against them.”♦‘silhoutte’ replaced with ‘silhouette’(‡ decoration)

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RICHARD HARDING DAVIS has shown a marvelous skill in seeing the world, in travel, and of describing it as he sees it. He is not a profound student of the mystery of the human mind, but he possesses in high degree and in rare quality an instinct of selection, a clear sense of an artistic situation in a group of more or less ordinary circumstances and a gift in interesting description. He is, in short, a very clever newspaper reporter who has transferred his field of service from the region of the actual to the realm of the imaginary. His reputation, however, is about equally divided between his works of description and travel and his stories of a more imaginative order, though in both classes of writings, he is above everything else a describer of what he has seen.

He was born in Philadelphia in 1864, the son of L. Clark Davis, an editor of reputation, and Rebecca Harding Davis, the author of many good stories, so that the child had a literary inheritance and an hereditary bent for letters. He studied for three years in Lehigh University and one year in Johns Hopkins, after which he began his interesting career as a journalist, serving successively “The Record,” “Press,” and “Telegraph” of Philadelphia. On his return from a European trip, he became connected with the New York “Evening Sun,” for which he wrote the famous series of “Van Bibber Sketches.”

The story, however, which gave him his first real fame was “Gallegher,” the scene of which is laid in Philadelphia, though, as is true of all his stories, locality plays but little part in his tales, modes of life and not scenery being the main feature.

He describes the happy-go-lucky life of the young club man, adventures in saloons, and scenes among burglars with remarkable realism, for as reporter he lived for a time among the “reprobates,” in disguise, to make a careful study of their manner of life. Again when he describes “The West from a Car Window,” he is giving scenes which he saw and types of life which he closely observed. His books always have the distinctive mark of spirit; they are full of life and activity, everything moves on and something “happens.” This is as true of his books of travel as of his stories. He has traveled extensively, and he has given descriptions of most of his journeys.

Beside “The West from a Car Window” he has written, with the same reportorial skill and fidelity to observed facts, a book of descriptions of life and manners in the East, with scenes and incidents at Gibraltar and Tangiers, in Cairo, Athens and Constantinople.

He has also produced a book of travels in England, which touches rather the surface of English life than the deeper traits of character which Emerson has so faithfully described. Davis writes as reporter of what is easily observed, while the other writes as philosopher. His latest collection of stories which shows his storytelling faculties at their best is called “The Exiles and Other Stories.” His most recent service as a journalist was as correspondent of “The London Times,” with the Greek forces during their recent humiliating conflict with the Turks. The selection given below will illustrate his vigorous style and the vivid character of his descriptions.

THE GREEK DEFENCE OF VELESTINO.

(FROM THE “LONDON TIMES.”)

THERE is a round hill to the north of the town, standing quite alone. It has a perfectly flat top, and its proportions are exactly those of a giant bucket set upside down. We found the upper end of this bucket crowded with six mountain guns [there was one other correspondent withMr.Davis at the time], and the battery was protesting violently. When it had uttered its protest the guns would throw themselves into the air, and would turn a complete somersault, as though with delight at the mischief they had done, or would whirl themselves upon one wheel while the other spun rapidly in the air. Lieutenant Ambroise Frantzis was in command of the battery. It was he who had repulsed a Turkish cavalry charge of a few days before with this same battery, and he was as polite and calm and pleased with his excitable little guns as though they weighed a hundred tons each, and could send a shell nine miles instead of a scant three thousand yards.“From this hill there was nothing to be seen of the Turks but puffs of smoke in the plain, so we slid down its steep side and clambered up the ridges in front of us, where long rows of infantry were outlined against the sky.... A bare-headed peasant boy, in dirty white petticoats, who seemed to consider the engagement in the light of an entertainment, came dancing down the hill to show us the foot-paths that led up the different ridges. He was one of the villagers who had not run away or who was not farther up the valley, taking pot-shots at the hated Turks from behind rocks. He talked and laughed as he ran ahead of us, with many gestures, and imitated mockingly the sound of the bullets, and warned us with grave solicitude to be careful, as though he was in no possible danger himself. I saw him a great many times during the day, guiding company after company through the gulleys, and showing them how to advance protected by the slope of the hills—a self-constituted scout—and with much the manner of a landed proprietor escorting visitors over his estate. And whenever a shell struck near him, he would run and retrieve the pieces, and lay them triumphantly at the feet of the officers, like a little fox-terrier that has scampered after a stick and brought it to his master’s feet.“The men in the first trench—which was the only one which gave us a clear view of the Turkish forces—received us with cheerful nods and scraped out a place beside them, and covered the moist earth with their blankets. They exhibited a sort of childish pride and satisfaction at being under fire; and so far from showing the nervousness and shattered morale which had been prophesied for them after the rout at Larissa, they appeared on the contrary more than content. As the day wore on, they became even languidly bored with it all, and some sang in a low crooning tone, and others, in spite of the incessant rush of the shells, dozed in the full glare of the sun, and still others lay humped and crouched against the earthworks when the projectiles tore up the earth on the hill behind us. But when the order came to fire, they would scramble to their knees with alacrity, and many of them would continue firing on their own account, long after the whistle had sounded to cease firing. Some of the officers walked up and down, and directed the men in the trenches at their feet with the air of judges or time-keepers at an athletic meeting, who were observing a tug-of-war. Others exposedthemselves in what looked like a spirit of braggadocio, for they moved with a swagger and called upon the men to notice how brave they were. Other officers rose only when it was necessary to observe some fresh movement upon the part of the enemy, and they did this without the least haste and simply as a part of their work, and regarded the bullets that instantly beset them as little as if they were so many flies.“A Turkish soldier dragging a mule loaded with ammunition had appeared a quarter of a mile below us, and at sight of him the soldiers at once recognized that there was something tangible, something that could show some sign if they hit it. The white smoke they had aimed at before had floated away, but at the sight of this individual soldier the entire line ceased firing at the enemy’s trenches, and opened on the unhappy Turk and his mule, and as the dust spurted up at points nearer and nearer to where he stood, their excitement increased in proportion, until, when he gave the mule a kick and ran for his life, there was a triumphant shout all along the line, as though they had repulsed a regiment. That one man and his load of ammunition had for a few minutes represented to them the entire Turkish army.“As the Turks suddenly appeared below us, clambering out of a long gully, it was as though they had sprung from the earth. On the moment the smiling landscape changed like a scene at a theatre, and hundreds of men rose from what had apparently been deserted hilltops, and stood outlined in♦silhouette against the sunset, waves of smoke ran from crest to crest, spitting flashes of red flame, and men’s voices shrieked and shouted, and the Turkish shells raced each other so fiercely that they beat out the air until it groaned. It had come up so suddenly that it was like two dogs springing at each other’s throats, and, in a greater degree, it had something of the sound of two wild animals struggling for life. Volley answered volley as though with personal hate—one crashing in upon the roll of the other, or beating it out of recognition with the bursting roar of heavy cannon; and to those who could do nothing but lie face downwards and listen to it, it seemed as though they had been caught in a burning building, and that the walls and roof were falling in on them. I do not know how long it lasted—probably not more than five minutes, although it seemed much longer than that—but finally the death-grip seemed to relax, the volleys came brokenly, like a man panting for breath, the bullets ceased to sound with the hiss of escaping steam, and rustled aimlessly by, and from hilltop to hilltop the officers’ whistles sounded as though a sportsman were calling off his dogs. The Turks had been driven back, and for the fourth day the Greeks had held Velestino successfully against them.”♦‘silhoutte’ replaced with ‘silhouette’

“From this hill there was nothing to be seen of the Turks but puffs of smoke in the plain, so we slid down its steep side and clambered up the ridges in front of us, where long rows of infantry were outlined against the sky.... A bare-headed peasant boy, in dirty white petticoats, who seemed to consider the engagement in the light of an entertainment, came dancing down the hill to show us the foot-paths that led up the different ridges. He was one of the villagers who had not run away or who was not farther up the valley, taking pot-shots at the hated Turks from behind rocks. He talked and laughed as he ran ahead of us, with many gestures, and imitated mockingly the sound of the bullets, and warned us with grave solicitude to be careful, as though he was in no possible danger himself. I saw him a great many times during the day, guiding company after company through the gulleys, and showing them how to advance protected by the slope of the hills—a self-constituted scout—and with much the manner of a landed proprietor escorting visitors over his estate. And whenever a shell struck near him, he would run and retrieve the pieces, and lay them triumphantly at the feet of the officers, like a little fox-terrier that has scampered after a stick and brought it to his master’s feet.

“The men in the first trench—which was the only one which gave us a clear view of the Turkish forces—received us with cheerful nods and scraped out a place beside them, and covered the moist earth with their blankets. They exhibited a sort of childish pride and satisfaction at being under fire; and so far from showing the nervousness and shattered morale which had been prophesied for them after the rout at Larissa, they appeared on the contrary more than content. As the day wore on, they became even languidly bored with it all, and some sang in a low crooning tone, and others, in spite of the incessant rush of the shells, dozed in the full glare of the sun, and still others lay humped and crouched against the earthworks when the projectiles tore up the earth on the hill behind us. But when the order came to fire, they would scramble to their knees with alacrity, and many of them would continue firing on their own account, long after the whistle had sounded to cease firing. Some of the officers walked up and down, and directed the men in the trenches at their feet with the air of judges or time-keepers at an athletic meeting, who were observing a tug-of-war. Others exposedthemselves in what looked like a spirit of braggadocio, for they moved with a swagger and called upon the men to notice how brave they were. Other officers rose only when it was necessary to observe some fresh movement upon the part of the enemy, and they did this without the least haste and simply as a part of their work, and regarded the bullets that instantly beset them as little as if they were so many flies.

“A Turkish soldier dragging a mule loaded with ammunition had appeared a quarter of a mile below us, and at sight of him the soldiers at once recognized that there was something tangible, something that could show some sign if they hit it. The white smoke they had aimed at before had floated away, but at the sight of this individual soldier the entire line ceased firing at the enemy’s trenches, and opened on the unhappy Turk and his mule, and as the dust spurted up at points nearer and nearer to where he stood, their excitement increased in proportion, until, when he gave the mule a kick and ran for his life, there was a triumphant shout all along the line, as though they had repulsed a regiment. That one man and his load of ammunition had for a few minutes represented to them the entire Turkish army.

“As the Turks suddenly appeared below us, clambering out of a long gully, it was as though they had sprung from the earth. On the moment the smiling landscape changed like a scene at a theatre, and hundreds of men rose from what had apparently been deserted hilltops, and stood outlined in♦silhouette against the sunset, waves of smoke ran from crest to crest, spitting flashes of red flame, and men’s voices shrieked and shouted, and the Turkish shells raced each other so fiercely that they beat out the air until it groaned. It had come up so suddenly that it was like two dogs springing at each other’s throats, and, in a greater degree, it had something of the sound of two wild animals struggling for life. Volley answered volley as though with personal hate—one crashing in upon the roll of the other, or beating it out of recognition with the bursting roar of heavy cannon; and to those who could do nothing but lie face downwards and listen to it, it seemed as though they had been caught in a burning building, and that the walls and roof were falling in on them. I do not know how long it lasted—probably not more than five minutes, although it seemed much longer than that—but finally the death-grip seemed to relax, the volleys came brokenly, like a man panting for breath, the bullets ceased to sound with the hiss of escaping steam, and rustled aimlessly by, and from hilltop to hilltop the officers’ whistles sounded as though a sportsman were calling off his dogs. The Turks had been driven back, and for the fourth day the Greeks had held Velestino successfully against them.”

♦‘silhoutte’ replaced with ‘silhouette’

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GREAT ORATORS AND POPULAR LECTURERSGREAT AMERICAN ORATORS AND POPULAR LECTURERS.PATRICK HENRY • HENRY CLAY • DANIEL WEBSTERHENRY WARD BEECHER • JOHN B. GOUGH • HENRY W. GRADYCHAUNCY M. DEPEW • WENDELL PHILLIPS • EDWARD EVERETT(‡ decoration)PATRICK HENRY.THE GREATEST ORATOR OF COLONIAL TIMES.IHEARD the splendid display ofMr.Henry’s talents as a popular orator,” wrote Thomas Jefferson, “they were great indeed, such as I have never heard from any other man. He appeared to me to speak as Homer wrote.”Few men in the history of the world have possessed in a degree equal to that of Patrick Henry, the power to move men’s minds and to influence their actions, but it was not until he was twenty-seven years old that his oratorical powers became known. He was a native Virginian of distinguished parentage and good education. He married very young, and tried farming and merchandising before he decided to become a lawyer, when he came at once into a large practice. He was engaged in 1763 to defend the Colony against the suit of a minister of the Established Church, brought to recover his salary which had been fixed at sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco. A failure of the crop had made the tobacco exceedingly valuable, and the Colonial Legislature had passed a law requiring the ministers to take money payment at the rate of two pence per pound. This act had not been approved by the King, and in his speech on this occasion,Mr.Henry boldly proclaimed the principles which afterward led to the Declaration of Independence, declaring that “the King by disallowing acts of a salutary nature, from being the father of his people, degenerates into a tyrant and forfeits all rights to his subjects’ obedience.” From that day the fame of Patrick Henry, as a popular orator, spread throughout the Colonies. His famous speech, two years later, in the House of Burgesses, resulted in the passing of resolutions defining the rights of the Colonies and pronouncing the “Stamp Act” unconstitutional. The public mind was so inflamed that open resistance was everywhere made and the enforcement of the tax became impossible.Mr.Henry was now the leader of his Colony. He was concerned in all the principal movements during the trying times until 1774, when he was foremost in the movement which resulted in the calling of the Continental Congress. Being a delegate to the Congress, he opened its deliberations by a speech in which he declared: “I am not a Virginian, but an American,” and this broad patriotism characterized his speech and actions throughout his life. On the outbreak of the war, he was made Commander of the forces raised in Virginia; but when these troops became a part of the Continental Army, his lack of military experience prevented his continuance in so high a command and he retired to civil life.He became the first Governor of Virginia and was re-elected several times. Among his distinguished services was the sending out of the expedition which conquered the territory northwest of the Ohio, which territory now embraces the great States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan and Wisconsin. He early saw the defects in the Articles of Confederation and favored the formation of a stronger government. He thought the plan of the Constitution gave too much power to the general government; but his objections were largely removed by the first eleven amendments and he gave a hearty support to the administration of President Washington. When the Alien and Sedition Laws were meeting with great opposition and there was danger of an attempt on the part of Virginia to resist their further execution, he strongly opposed such action, and, although he did not approve of the laws, and urged the use of every possible means to effect their repeal, he secured his election to the Legislature for the purpose of advocating submission to the authority of the general government. Before he had taken his seat, his life came to a close.Mr.Henry was a devoted Christian and lived a life consistent with that high profession. His services to the cause of civil liberty can hardly be overstated. His powers have been testified to by many men of great culture and ability, and John Randolph, of Roanoke, declared that he was the greatest orator that ever lived and spoke of him as “Shakespeare and Garrick combined.”RESISTANCE TO BRITISH AGGRESSION.Delivered before the Virginia Convention, March 23, 1775, in support of resolutions he had introduced, providing that the colony should immediately be put in a state of defence against British aggression. Of the effect of this speech,Mr.Wirt says, that, when Henry took his seat, at its close, “No murmur of applause was heard. The effect was too deep. After the trance of a moment, several members started from their seats. The cryto arms!seemed to quiver on every lip, and gleam from every eye. They became impatient of speech. Their souls were on fire for action.”MR.PRESIDENT, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern our temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth,—to know the worst, and to provide for it!I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And, judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry, for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet! Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss! Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love?Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation,—the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign anyother possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that, for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain.Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not already been exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne.In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free,—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending,—if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained,—we must fight; I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us!THE WAR INEVITABLE, MARCH, 1775.(Continuation of the foregoing.)THEY tell us, sir, that we are weak,—unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable; and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, peace, peace!—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

GREAT AMERICAN ORATORS AND POPULAR LECTURERS.PATRICK HENRY • HENRY CLAY • DANIEL WEBSTERHENRY WARD BEECHER • JOHN B. GOUGH • HENRY W. GRADYCHAUNCY M. DEPEW • WENDELL PHILLIPS • EDWARD EVERETT

GREAT AMERICAN ORATORS AND POPULAR LECTURERS.

PATRICK HENRY • HENRY CLAY • DANIEL WEBSTERHENRY WARD BEECHER • JOHN B. GOUGH • HENRY W. GRADYCHAUNCY M. DEPEW • WENDELL PHILLIPS • EDWARD EVERETT

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THE GREATEST ORATOR OF COLONIAL TIMES.

IHEARD the splendid display ofMr.Henry’s talents as a popular orator,” wrote Thomas Jefferson, “they were great indeed, such as I have never heard from any other man. He appeared to me to speak as Homer wrote.”

Few men in the history of the world have possessed in a degree equal to that of Patrick Henry, the power to move men’s minds and to influence their actions, but it was not until he was twenty-seven years old that his oratorical powers became known. He was a native Virginian of distinguished parentage and good education. He married very young, and tried farming and merchandising before he decided to become a lawyer, when he came at once into a large practice. He was engaged in 1763 to defend the Colony against the suit of a minister of the Established Church, brought to recover his salary which had been fixed at sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco. A failure of the crop had made the tobacco exceedingly valuable, and the Colonial Legislature had passed a law requiring the ministers to take money payment at the rate of two pence per pound. This act had not been approved by the King, and in his speech on this occasion,Mr.Henry boldly proclaimed the principles which afterward led to the Declaration of Independence, declaring that “the King by disallowing acts of a salutary nature, from being the father of his people, degenerates into a tyrant and forfeits all rights to his subjects’ obedience.” From that day the fame of Patrick Henry, as a popular orator, spread throughout the Colonies. His famous speech, two years later, in the House of Burgesses, resulted in the passing of resolutions defining the rights of the Colonies and pronouncing the “Stamp Act” unconstitutional. The public mind was so inflamed that open resistance was everywhere made and the enforcement of the tax became impossible.Mr.Henry was now the leader of his Colony. He was concerned in all the principal movements during the trying times until 1774, when he was foremost in the movement which resulted in the calling of the Continental Congress. Being a delegate to the Congress, he opened its deliberations by a speech in which he declared: “I am not a Virginian, but an American,” and this broad patriotism characterized his speech and actions throughout his life. On the outbreak of the war, he was made Commander of the forces raised in Virginia; but when these troops became a part of the Continental Army, his lack of military experience prevented his continuance in so high a command and he retired to civil life.

He became the first Governor of Virginia and was re-elected several times. Among his distinguished services was the sending out of the expedition which conquered the territory northwest of the Ohio, which territory now embraces the great States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan and Wisconsin. He early saw the defects in the Articles of Confederation and favored the formation of a stronger government. He thought the plan of the Constitution gave too much power to the general government; but his objections were largely removed by the first eleven amendments and he gave a hearty support to the administration of President Washington. When the Alien and Sedition Laws were meeting with great opposition and there was danger of an attempt on the part of Virginia to resist their further execution, he strongly opposed such action, and, although he did not approve of the laws, and urged the use of every possible means to effect their repeal, he secured his election to the Legislature for the purpose of advocating submission to the authority of the general government. Before he had taken his seat, his life came to a close.

Mr.Henry was a devoted Christian and lived a life consistent with that high profession. His services to the cause of civil liberty can hardly be overstated. His powers have been testified to by many men of great culture and ability, and John Randolph, of Roanoke, declared that he was the greatest orator that ever lived and spoke of him as “Shakespeare and Garrick combined.”

RESISTANCE TO BRITISH AGGRESSION.

Delivered before the Virginia Convention, March 23, 1775, in support of resolutions he had introduced, providing that the colony should immediately be put in a state of defence against British aggression. Of the effect of this speech,Mr.Wirt says, that, when Henry took his seat, at its close, “No murmur of applause was heard. The effect was too deep. After the trance of a moment, several members started from their seats. The cryto arms!seemed to quiver on every lip, and gleam from every eye. They became impatient of speech. Their souls were on fire for action.”

MR.PRESIDENT, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern our temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth,—to know the worst, and to provide for it!I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And, judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry, for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet! Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss! Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love?Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation,—the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign anyother possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that, for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain.Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not already been exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne.In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free,—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending,—if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained,—we must fight; I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us!

I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And, judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry, for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet! Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss! Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love?

Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation,—the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign anyother possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that, for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain.

Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not already been exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne.

In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free,—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending,—if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained,—we must fight; I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us!

THE WAR INEVITABLE, MARCH, 1775.

(Continuation of the foregoing.)

THEY tell us, sir, that we are weak,—unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable; and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, peace, peace!—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable; and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, peace, peace!—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

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