er aeiatonee Pano Seapine eae wii X002265250LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA PRESENTED BY John C. Parker 4 x bes A i a i cee ace oh Benet passat Breet Fo i.SL EN RP I Ne TE eeoe fs a = LA TIE Aa i IG er — aeHICAGO, ILL. EVELYN H. WALKER ~ ykINNS Jasanrycki2 thiUsbrdy, QVIASELES T ATTY T — | ENKIN . (ilustrated with Colored tha (f=% ano Lit Drawings HDOgGrapns iginal Tone STURED AND SOLD B} BOOK COMPANY PHILADELPHIA, PA. MANUFAC MONARCH en TA |Ri chal hii eat \\ Nida ne cdiPREFACE kind readers, that they will not read my preface until they have read the book, for the last thi as everybody knows is the case with Vera, HAVE one favor to ask of my VOR namely, it was, OF will be when it is finished, ng written, all pret- ith the last page and read the whole b ok backwards should like to belongs, but the aces. So you might as well begin w1 as to begin here. | put it at the end, where it printers and evervbody else would laugh at me, and nobody would read either book or preface; and there would be one more disappol inted author in the world, to say n 1 - se i] “9 5 nA . - ot the readers, who would nevel - know of their own disap pointn 1ent. 1 i | fa nee 1 Besides, the word itself means something done ares and although it was not done before, as I have been telling you, there seems to be no tangle ul sing that you have way out of the itil somebody orows stronger minded. T ” } +] » \ L- y ] ITA fA T) Now, suppo read the book, you have found oreat varieties of character between its two COVETS. | suppose you oy + “ D “7r : tc hatureen an at Arc vho have found more differences than likenesses between Joan of Arc, wh (s thy an KTAI1N 6 yO hitsa --| wielded a sword, and Clara Barton, who healed the wound the sword 1 2 a . made, and peune ps between General Grant, who tought on o S1di ‘na great conflict, and General Lee, who oan .gainst him on the other | , | , : But after all, they were children of one family, tor th were al f \W a ishin: oton, L should a like to see in love with an idea. What was the idea in the case of Lincoln, of Grant, | he vour list, with the idea, as it shapes itself in your ist, | } | I wonder how nearly any six people Ws ould and the others? mind, written opposite each name. agree about them all. You remember the struggle that Rosa Bonheut Others again h; 1d no great diff had before she c as culty of found out what her idea was. g » interesting LO) U J 1€ book that kind. It would be interesting to go through tl and note ad ST ea8 PREFACE carefully the history of this struggle in the lives of its twenty-two people. But the outcome was the same in all cases—the idea was found. Perhaps, after all, the secret of genius lies in finding oneselt out, though I am aware that that is far from any dictionary definition of the word. But when I think of Rosa Bonheur’s trouble with her- self before she found out what the world had for her to do, it makes me wonder what young painters, or poets, or statesmen, or philanthro- pists among. my acquaintances are in danger of being lost to the world because they are not getting acquainted with themselves and their own possibilities. Another thing; every one of these twenty-two people believed tremendously that his or her idea was worth saving, worth fichting for, worth dying for, or even living for, if necessary, and making petty little sacrifices for, even if these sacrifices took away everything they had or hoped to have—except the idea. And the spirit of such lives is contagious. We can never associate with courage, and truth, and cheer, and earnestness, without catching it. Wecan not read the biographies of true and noble souls without becoming ourselves a little more true and noble. even in spite of ourselves. Let us live much with the great souls of history, until we, too, are in love with an idea. Ee. da WwW CHICAGO, JULY 5TH, 1808, hh $ a 4 te H : teste ae : il i ae ak bias ee Sears sasnssT} or) yasCONFENRS: GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE FATHER OF His CouNntTRY Untysses S. GRANT, THE MAN oF SILENCE ABRAHAM LINCOLN, THE RAIL-SPLITTER OF ILLINOIS . VICTORIA, QUEEN OF ENGLAND Henry W. LONGFELLOW, THE POET OF THE COMMON PEOPLE Henry M. STANLEY, THE AFRICAN EXPLORER Rosa BoNHEUR, THE PAINTER OF ANIMALS Patrick HENRY, THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, STATESMAN, SCIENTIST, PHILOSOPHER ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING, ENGLAND’S GREATEST WOMAN PoET Joan or Arc, THE DELIVERER OF FRANCE Tuomas “Atva EpIsoNn, THE W1zaRD OF MENLO Park. Wittiam Ewart GLADSTONE, THE GRAND OLD MAN oF ENGLAND Friptior NANSEN, EXPLORER OF THE FarTHEST NORTH CLARA BARTON, THE ANGEL OF THE BATTLEFIELD Dwicut L. Moopy, THE EVANGELIS1 JOHN WANAMAKER, THE SUCCESSFUL Man oF BUSINESS RoBERT E. LEE, THE HERO OF THE SOUTH Susan B. ANTHONY, A CHAMPION OF WOMAN FRANCES WILLARD, THE APOSTLE OF | EMPERANCE GALILEO, THE STUDENT OF NATURE WotrGanc AMADEUS Mozart, THE GREAT MUSICIAN FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE—IHE SACRIFICING SISTER a 4 wt : PAGE a 7 ee J/ 61 "yj 8 I iq Q9 | « rr 12:77 ‘| [39 | ‘4 iy } li [ 5 it i i | [03 t mn a 7s i 1d2 LQ7 ij 27 i ‘ ; ; a 24 I fs iyi aL ) 4 i eno i 253 Js H 259 i A i 2/ I tl 28] i ‘| 325) i 3 | 315 iTomb of Washington............---- George Washington and _ the IS IGKREIOVEE Goa nano quoposbeboosecunauece Washington’s IMPOUND? soadaccsoscenshacemuennen sonode Washington and His Men Hunt- ing Indian Tracks........ ee Martha Washington..............-..- House where First Congress Met The Tree under which Washing ton took Command of the Army Washington and His Men at Val leva OL ies casein. Surrender of Burgoyne.. Washington.at Valley Forge Read shakes AL IWIN ooono pono Mount Vernon George Washington— Portrait Grant’s Birthplace......... Grant blowin. 00... Grant Breaking a Horse NWeSsteEoint..:.-.... General Scott....... Artillery Going to the Front General McClellan.. Recruits to the Front.. The Advance on Vicksburg General William T. Sherman...... Battle of the Wilderness............ Battle of Shiloh...... Soldiers Marching to the Front Capitol at Washington....... Wes: Grant—Portrait....: 2-6. 0.0... Abraham Lincoln Going to School WINCONES BAD VNOOG cosescc. sss... rn On No cn Cn Gn SS = JT on LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Moving to Indiana........-.-- The Proud Possessor of a Log Gabini ose eee Too Poor to Adtord 2 Lincoln the Mother of Invention Lincoln as an Orator .. Lincolns Bio Heat: <2... iene Lincoln as a Book Agent........-... The Causes of the War. Slaves on a Plantation...... Abraham Lincoln—Portrat Queen Victoria—Portt Childhood of Victoria Hampton Court Ga dens Eng lands =. Windsor Castle. I eeosvenesesaeen Coronation Chair.. 11 ay rn Prince Albert:s Tomb:.::...-.. Young Stanley’s Daring Feat.. Almshouse Boys at Dinner Stanley being Robbed Stanley Finding Livingstone Preparing for a Feast.. Rosa Bonheur’s Favorite Store.... Rosa Bonheur at Nineteen......... BIOWIIS creccyccus ct eeeene ee tees ab Eee ee ee . nae fs thes 3 3 ie 5 oe : “ es i Ba sae ene ik diss eee sda ie ee ee OTN aL DaTiee te = Nn — t , > — fed tl bel >) N N) re — mn Ww si =F a WN »PAGE The Overthrow....ssssseseereseenreets 135 The Horse Hair...--2eceseeerer 136 Patrick Henry—Portrait....4------- 140 Benjamin Franklin and His Elec- trical Experiment....-----s:s200" 151 Benjamin Franklin when a Boy... 157 Mrs. Browning—Portrait....---++» 165 The Childhood of Joan Of Ace. WA: A Fresco—Joan of Arc....--+++-2+ 180 Edison as a Newsboy..---.+++2:207" 183 Edison—Portrait....---+sss+2ssse00" 184 Thomas A. Edison and his Talk- ing Machine......------serrssrter 193 William Ewart Gladstone.....------ 196 Gladstone when a Boy Debating.. 197 Gladstone’s AmncestOrs..-.-+rss.++" 198 Gladstone at Hton...----ssrrrr 199 Eton College cc.cccn sca 200 Christ Church Colleze—Oxford.. 202 Dining Hall, Christ Church Col- feces nese ce eae ae 203 Broad Walk — Gardens of Christ Church College.....-:sueecs 205 Hawarden Castle....-:.s-ssssss 209 The Old Castle at Hawarden...--- 211 Gladstone Introducing the Home 214 Rule Billeticccececrcs trace PAGE. Gladstone and Grandchild........--- 216 Nansen when a Child... --.-.----: 217 Fridtjof Nansen Portrait .....---: 218 Nansen’s First Snow Shoes....---+: 220 Nansen Hunting Polar Bears...--- 221 Mhe (O Braml yecesccsesen sce ccoruen ae Farthest North.......25 --:ssssoeese" 227 Clara Barton’s Girlhood.....------- 23 Clara Barton—Portrait ...----.++++» 232 Clara Barton and Her Work in Cuba... Seen eceeeess eceee e 2A Dwight L. Moody—Portrait....--+- 244 Mother of Dwight L. Moody..---: 250 John Wanamaker....--:---:7es07" 252 Robert Lee on his Favorite Horse 259 Fitzhugh Lee —Portrait......-..229+ 260 Robert E. Lee— Portrait....---e+ 267 House where Lee Surrendered.... 269 Susan B. Anthony—Portrait....--- 272 A Reception. .....-.s 2.9 278 Frances E. Willard—Portrait....-. 280 Drinking Fountain.......-s2+ssr0" 290 Anna A. GordOnt-cecccre stnaaes 201 Galileo—Portrait ....eeeerrr 292 Wolfgang Mozart—Portrait when eiiiesen G05 RE eT ot EE inesLb elo $ a a At | TOMB OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON, WESTMINSTER ABBEY. i ii a ini eeWASHINGTONGEORGE WASHINGTON THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY Broad-minded, higher-souled, there is but one Who was all this and ours, and all men’s—-WASHINGTON. —fowell. OING down the Potomac river by steamer from Washington to Norfolk, the most interesting sight by the way, if you have a gleam of historical. imagination, is Mount Vernon, associated as it 1s with so much that is tender and beautiful in the domestic life of Washington, and hallowed as the place of his burial. Though he spent many sorrowful years away from it in the service of his country, this was the home to which his heart fondly turned through all the years of his manhood. A few miles below Mount Vernon you will begin to strain your eyes for another spot, dear to every American, the place where Washington was born. It is now more than a century and a half since it ceased to be his home, and the house has entirely disap- peared, but a few old-fashioned garden shrubs and one or two leafless fig-trees suggest the spot where Washington was once a child and enable us to rebuild in fancy the home in which the greatest of Amer- icans found birth. The house was a low, one-story frame building with four rooms below and an old-fashioned attic under the steep roof. The site is marked by a small stone tablet. Here George Washington was born, February 22, 1732, one year before Georgia, the youngest of the thirteen colonies which he was to unite into a nation, was settled, 17el ae ——— Af — GEORGE WASHINGTON .d his characteristic good judgment Augustine Washington, maiden name w:THE FATHER OF AIS COUNTRY. When George was still a very young child, the Washington family removed to an estate near Fredericksburg, on the Rappahan- nock river. The house, like the one on the Potomac, has long since tumbled to ruins. eleven years old. Here his father died when George was about it is probable that the traming which he had given his son had done much to start him in the right direction and make him the great man he came tobe. The story of the cherry tree and others of its kind are not now generally believed by scholars. It would be a great pity to give them up, but it would be a still greater pity to make sport of them, as some pco- ple are fond of doing; for if they are not literally true, still they arc true ina very high and noble sense, much as the para- bles of the Bible are true, although the actual events a a Ve pee - , 3 - Suid GEORGE WASHINGTON AND THE HATCHET. which they record may never have taken place. The story of the cherry tree proves the belief of Augustine Washington's netwh- bors that he was a man who placed a high regard upon truth and truth-telling. It shows that, in the opinion of those who knew him best, he trained his son to that high ideal, and that the son, even at that tender a training. ge, had begun to show the results of his °% Mary Ball had been a beauty and a belle in her girlhood. SheFs Te a aceieentinnl GEORGE WASHINGTON 2,” oo oe became a woman fit to be trusted with the education of a boy whom the country would need for high uses by and by. Augustine Washington was a rich man, according to the ideas of his time. He willed the farm on the Rappahannock to his son George. Mount Vernon he left to his eldest son, Lawrence, who died young, and, after the early death of his daughter, Mount Vernon passed to George. The farm on the Rappahannock remained the family home during all of George's boyhood, It often seems as if it were an advantage to a boy to be born poor. Many of our Presidents and cther famous men and women have begun life under very hard circumstances and have had to fight poverty through many weary years. This sometimes makes it seem as if it required poverty and hardship to make a great man. This advantage George Washington did not have, and it was given him to prove that a nich boy as well as a poor one may misc to high places and fill them nobly. «*A man away live nobly though in a palace,” said the old Roman Emperer, Mareus Aurchus. Washington's opportunities were of a very different kind from those of Lincoln, but no one can find much fault with the result in either case. Perhaps any kind of circumstances may be an advantage to a boy it he ts only the richt kind of boy to begin with. There were few schools in those early days in Virgimia, and the Washineton children were taught mainly at home. We read of a number of differcnt tuters whe had charge of George's education at different times. He seems to have been careful and painstaking in all his work, as is shown by his copybooks and other exercises, many of which have heen preserved. When he was about thirteen he wrote out a hundred and ten savings, which he called ‘‘ Rules of Courtesy and Decent Behavior in Company and Where he obtained these rules is not known. Many of them are written in bovish languaze, and same have therefore thought them Conversation. | his own composition * but, on the other hand, othe rs seem over wise and old tora lini at his uve. This, however, misrht have been duc to the character of his T ading and companions. lis mother often read to him from a serious and theuchtful book called « Contempla- tions, Moral and Divine. by Sir Matthew Hale.” He spent a great deal of his time with Lord Fairfax, a distant relative, a man ot fine a EE CLT rtTHE FATHER OF LILS COWNBERIY 21 education, who wrote wel] and had been the friend of Addison, ereat master of the Enelish lancuage. He was very fond of George and took a deep interest | st in his education. Perhaps it was from this a » ) GOOD BYE MY SON, GOD BLESS YOU. friend that Washington learned that exact use of Enelish which enabled him in later life to express whatever he had in mind in the clearest way. It seemsa little strange that he was not given the22 GEORGE WASHINGTON advantages of a college training. He never became a man of great learning. But he was thoroughly at home in the branches of a com- mon English education, and read many of the best books. It was early settled in the Washington family that George was to make his own way in life just as if he had no property. Indeed, neither he nor any one else seems ever to have thought of anything different. When he was about fourteen years of age he began to havea longing for a sailor's life, and for a time his mother thought seriously of permitting him to go tosea. There is a pretty story to the effect that he was about to start, and that his trunk had been sent on board ship, when, finding his mother in tears, he resolved to abandon his plan and ordered his trunk recalled. The truth is that Mrs. Wash- ington was advised by her brother against this course, and withdrew her consent. This again does not destroy the tradition, but simply gives it point. The story would never have been thought of in con- nection with a boy who was not kind and obedient to his mother, and it would not have been believed and repeated if it had not fitted the character of the boy. Whenever in the interest of truth we throw a story away, it will be worth while to look behind jt if it does not mean something that is really worth savino ) \ oa \ 1 It was not more than a year after this that he became acquainted with a young lady whom he called ‘‘ The Lowland Beauty,” to whom he addressed some rather poor poetry. Here are some sample lines chosen at random, and copied exactly, capitals and all - ‘“Oh, ye Gods why should my P OOT I les cesistless Heart Stand to oppose thy might and Power At Last surrender to cupid’s feather’d Dart. And now lays Bleeding every Hour. ” If you would like to see the rest of it, you will find it in Edward Everett Hale’s Life of George Washine about this time, and thoucht he ght he should never be happy again. It is surprising to find that he afterwards met several other young ladies whom he greatly admired, and that he at a still later period bees very much attached to another beautiful woman and 1 tes ! 1 married her. But, of course, George Washington was different from other youne ton. He was very wretched my SUA area ead cet ia pee afi , ae rae iTEE PALER OF TiS GOWN RA nen. A young person of our day would never blow. Besides, the poetry he Iped to make him less miserable. The writing of poetry is a kind of hee ) g 9 , a harmless conductor of emotions which might otherwise rend and torture the young soul. It is not certa inly known who ‘‘The Lowland Beauty ” was, but it is believed that she was the lady who afterwards married Richard Henry Lee, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. If this is true, she had the good fortune to become the mother of the gallant and dashing ‘‘Light-Horse Harry,” of evolutionary fame, and now still further famous as the father of General Robert E. Lee. Washington had still other resources in his trouble. hard work and hard. fare, for he began soon after this to study and practic« le learned his business so well that he tl surveying. was made sur- veyor of Culpepper County, Virginia, when > he was only seventeen years old. He did his work of surveying the county so well that late1 surveyors have not had to do it over again. \nd now we begin to come upon stirring time The French and English both claimed the land west of the Alle- shany mountains, and the French were beginning to build the valley of the Ohio. The English regarded this as trespassing on their Tee and Governor Dinwiddie, of Virginia, decided to send a messenger to find out what the French intended to do. He forts 1n oe, the bravest and wisest man he could find for this expedition He chose George Washington, then a youth of twenty-one years who was afterwards spoken of by Thomas Carlyle in his ‘Life of Frederick the Great,” as ‘‘a steady-going, considerate, close-mouthed young gentleman, who came to great distinction in the end Oo LiCl, It was a dangerous journey of eight or nine hundred miles, through a wilder- ness full of hostile Indians, in the depth of winter. He started out with seven companions, accomplished his mission and returned home in safety after three months of terrible hardship. ‘‘FProm that moment,” says Washington Irving, who has written a charming life of Washington, ‘‘he was the rising boy of Virginia.” The time had now come when the question whether the French or the English were to rule this continent must be settled. It took the ‘‘Seven Years’ War” todecideit. In this war George Washine- recover from such a24 GEORGE i ASHING TON ton gave the first command and fired the first bullet. In writing an ‘rmish in which he had been engaged, 1 said, The This account reached England, was like music. : saving, ‘‘lf he had account of a sk whistle of bullets and the king was inclined to make sport or 1t, ? heard more ] he would not have thought so. ” i Years after, : ‘ 7 when some- ie ot 7 one asked N gy, Jinn 1 Ine f} YS had ever ; oy W ‘ made such Cte | a Leman i boas Washington ¢ % l L did? Sowa: ae must have , been when Sa ena = [ was very came every day and wore the uniform which he had cast aside sixteen years ago. ct Perhaps that was the greatest war speech that was made. And when they wanted a commander-in-chief, the choice of nearly everybody, except two men who wanted the position themselves, was Washing- ton. He received the trust with much modesty} and a painful sense of responsibility, saying in his speech of acceptance, ‘‘I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in this room that I this day de- clare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with.” He took command of the army under the famous elm at Cambridge. This tree is greatly treasured by the people of Cambridge. It is believed that it is three hundred years old. A stone tablet has been placed beneath it, bearing the inscription: ‘Under this tree Washineton first took command of the American army, ye 3, 1775. A year and a day from this event LMR ily Congress adopted th . Decla ‘ation of Independence. At Cambridge, ae ishington had his headquarters in the now celebrated Craigie house, since then the home of the poet Longfellow for many years, a now owned and occupied by his daughter, Miss Alice Longfellow. . Washington came and spent the winter here, doing much by her Loe presence and the social entertainments which she provided to keep up the courage of General Washington and his officers. It is hard for us to imagine the difficulties 2 yainst which Wash- ington had to strugele. The army which was given him at Cambridge was small and ee and he had very little ammunition. It is sald athat at one time he had but nine rounds for each of his men. He had to send as far as to the Bahamas and Bermudas for powder, and he was forced to do this secret]v because he did not wish either the I Americans or the British to know how little he had. The next spring he drove the British out of Boston. but alter that he tried to 1s . R 1 1 1 Keep out of battle until he should be strong enough to meet the enemy. For several years he did more planning than fighting. He was so Cautious that he was called the American Fabi lus, aiter that Roman Fabius who led the Carthaginians hither and yon for fifteen . thundercloud,”’LHE FATHER OF TITS; GOWUNBRY avoiding battle but > tunity tO vet her LOrces toget the r for the oreat struge rle. ran to find fault wi ith Wash le Chat was during the terrible ee ae spent with his army at Valley Forge. His men were | without sufficient « lothing. Some were bareheaded and bare But SOIMEe OT the ] eople | ¢ p¢ this cautious policy. oa Saat Se i aby a it = ce} eo. EG ue a eg ay ‘ ao . { N sphere Seosie ean Por ie ates pepe acs it bt i ad re athe ee ss eee ya 4 coat cane eS WASHINGTON AND HIS MEN AT VALLEY FORGE. and made a path in the snow with their bleeding oe the enemy and giving Rome an oppor- ton for eh he lunery and tooted feet as they walked. The paper money with which Congress was obliged to pay the soldiers was so nearly worthless that six months’ pay would scarcely J buy a soldier a pair of boots. There was a cabal, or ring, in gress to remove Washington from command, and put General Gates, an AN solk d man without the slightest milit: ary ability, in his place. naGEORGE WASHINGTON It was hard for Washington to see his men sta cold and hardship. He sawa great many dar winter, but he never doubted the right would win AR 3 z 4 = i spain , ke Oe EE ee sooo ei 4 rE ee 7 j SURRENDER OF BURGOYNI [he next year, things began to look brighter. Already Bur- gsoynes large army had been conquered at the battle of Saratoga, the caer 4 ees ee f Jey ES a ~ a ] f 4 yi : E , ee ereat battle of the war, and one of the greatest conflicts of history oy ie a saunpeaskSynyy Scat iss Ya eo)LITE PATER OF FUSIGON, IN TITER NY. { ment, 1! LY ° 31 i } keeping another ereat British army 1rom going to the aid of Burgoyne | . , - © © 5 Sey | VO ,Ore thar YIAna ale . He z 4 : Ia) . 1 fie he did Nore than anyone Else tO bring about ad DT1it1Ssn defeat. 3 Lhe Next year, in Consequence of the efforts of Benjamin ly Franklin, France came to our aid. his brought great encourace- i > 5 VUULASS { not a great amout t nt of actual military assistance. After that } there was no question which w: fee ie 1 : i} and if King i would Ly events turn, : Ce * * * ~ Ss 7 5 i 5 ft ae Agar, eee en. Aa { ‘ tig 3 ey y | a, RES ie ATH, | | 1 pee WASHINGTON FORGE READING A LEI” George III. had been a little wiser or his advisers a little stronger, the war would have As it was, the war lagged on until the siege of Yorktown, in 1781 / 4 |) 3 Wa and peace was not formally declared until 1783. During the later years of the war, the public Ele ‘he confidence Washington was completely restored. was now every where regarded as the savior of his countrv. 1 wish was expressed by ended then and many lives would have been saved. in } SN a a aes =| 32 GEORGE WASHINGTON some that he should become king of the country he had freed trom foreign control, but Washington indignantly rejected the idea. As soon as possible he bade a kind farewell to his officers and soldiers, and retired once more to Mount Vernon, which he had visited but once in more than eight years. Ba te ee Lew SS) yh 3 WN eee Sein? ga *, PANY He spent the next five years in managing his neglected estates and enjoying the free life of the country, entertaining a great number of guests with generous Southern hospitality. He hoped that he might never have to leave his home again for public duties, but the people could not spare him yet. : In 1787 he was made President of the Convention which met in Philadelphia, and drew u 3 . fa I , and drew up the Constitution under which we now eT Ss eta es te an “ a on ae Coe ae 2 Sa PPL ar iis) ad asad emer eee ONL Ser cir asst si hee SAVETHE FATHER We IEGHS (OU INTRY. 3 2 live. It was a trying place and he filled it with great wisdom. He was twice elected President by the unanimous voice of the people, and would have been chosen the third time if he had consented. At the close of his second term of office the love of the entire people again followed him to Mount Vernon Even this time he was not allowed a long quiet. Troubles arose with rance and war was feared. «This was in 1795. _ Washington was again made commander-in-chief of the armv. But this time the war-cloud passed over, and he was saved the strain of another campaign. In the last month of the last year of the century, Washineton was stricken with his last illness. He had been riding all day on his estate. [he day was snowy and cold. He reached home about three o’clock in the afternoon. He ‘would not allow a servant to be sent out on an errand, saying the day was too bad, but appeared to take no notice of his own « xposure. The next day he found that he had taken cold, but was able to walk out in the erounds in the after- noon, Ele failed rapidly and 1799. died the next day, December 14, The story has been told that Mrs. Washington, or Lady Wash- ington, as the people of her day loved to call |] I L 1er, shut herself up with her grief and never left her room after her husband’s death. | am glad to say that her diaries and account-books prove the story untrue. She was a woman of too much good sense and conscience to neglect her duties to the living in her devotion to the dead. She lived until 1802. [he highest honors were paid to Washington, both in this country and in Europe. Some of the greatest men in the nation were called upon to deliver funeral orations. One ol the most remarkable of these was the one given by General Henry Lee. It was in this address that the expression was first used, now so familiar to everyone, ‘‘ First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen. ” Washineton was a man of fine appearance and commanding presence. He was six feet high and had clear blue eyes and brown hair. He was careful of his personal appearance, usually having his clothes imported from England. He has been accused of being cold sri ani wo. i a ——7 34 The truth is that he never quite over- been more genial and > and reserved to strangers. ness. No one could have his friends. He was fond came his natural s oracious in manner than he when among ran) . c . ° : lS, y Ae, z ss aoe particularly of his wiles children and his n¢ phews I = r : ey hy of young people, and nieces. He had no children of his own. He had a hot temper, but he kept it 1 nder strong control except xpectedly and took him unawares. And in such pes . = ~ oN f a O41 +77) nse ol Justice SOON returned. An instance O! this occurred that most of the barrels which led with sand. ' f 7. 1 rr ] f{ et > <7 ro LZINEe bi rore NlS allival 1U01 the sake Bee ; j ; ] ls 1) AN) 1 , | , t , ; NV, + of preventing the discouragement which would ha toll | had the . 1 1] 1 1 peepee a a a nt ee a dot i soldiers known how small was the actual suppty 0! munition. He ee ea. Bo ee ; 7] ee Cant Colonel! SnOVeEr to Vlarblenea D hen hye , a \A ais { . a ad | wy xKTIth Q 17e returned, (;eneral VVashnington let |} 1] W1UI | C1O] Have 1 a ] \ fe Vou got tne powaer f CON: SIl; 5 l DUTSC | Ingull V\ hy itor tenible mace, and, alter a torrent ol width, IngQue did vou come back, sir, without 11 < rs . 1 1 od kes Tey : ] | es | “ c el] ‘ r 1 4 the powdel In Marble lead. Linie: Na lal Was Ed Nene, then ( eis my hand, i reached out his hand, saying, vou will take it and forgive me. me forget what is due Wa shineton was a OT' know w very much pro\ set a guard over NiimMse control. Betore we Lb] ime him 8 ‘ escaped nim, we ougcnt to rememMvel th LI host GH C1m™M Wdas- “acd 11 al ) ic [1] lrohtni WW | t } | .etT ro. Wnt 1 tered Lilve ( Ip I LS LJ bis | LiTLY LLiC il L Less) ct { | wo} § OVS wnen : Stee [ews ~-y ee eas A ae es et ay ] le 1S) LOOSE; NIE, WHEN IE IS NaArMEssed, CNS OUL CrranGds WKe all ODE. dient servant. So that fiery s] of Washineton’s life if he had not held it in che ck, was a part of very strenetl rc he was. ‘ 4 ea Ke ia ese ene 95 ee clea Sai BE EA Se E Baie! ie = ie a él re a by wine AT BI bro ao) eee 2 aaa r ) pp te) eh ta hiss a dn sealed aeemrie bes Pitre see nt fog) —LHE FATHER OF HIS COUNDLRY: 35 There was one reason for hij overlooking. He was always sure that his work, whatever it chanced to be, was worth doing just as well as he could possibly do it. Hewas never atraid of putting too much work into a task or too many hours intoa day. And that was Just as true of him when he was surveying in the backwoods of Virginia roasting his own potatoes in the ashes and eatine them off of cl chips as it was when he had risen to the highest place in the nation. JI am aware that a ereat many nice young ladies and gentlemen who are just starting out in life to KOs oS make their fortunes, do not agree with him on this point. At least they think it would be entirely \ out of place to ask them todo | a FS) Ao their work as faithfully as he did | OA ak his. And sono doubt it would | | as, bes And that 1s one of the | greatest differences between them and Washington. But they will never believe me until | it is too lat | | Hdward Everett Hale has ¢ Z summed up so well the life and 7 i : character of Washineton that ] v7 will do you the favor of quoting GEORGE WASHINGTON. fiteen, would dare to say: ‘I will very early in life compel the gov- ernment of this colony to make me commander of its toops| 7 1 will win everybody’s regard and admiration as I command them ; | will inherit a large fortune, for which I shall not have to work hard ; I will marry the woman I love; she shall be beautiful and elegant, and she, also, shall have a large fortune. I will live in the most beautiful place in America, and I will so carry on my estate that it shall be the admiration of all men. I will be active in the government of Virginia, and will lead it step by step to higher pros- xo perity ; when the time comes I will be unanimously named as the IS success which we are in danger of SSSGEORGE W. 1SHING TON : , Sa ; Ol the armies ot NV country. iT) | have created, anc W , | ; part La Ol TrEEeD honored of all me! 1d We | ce would have seemed ‘absurd enough, ¢ J happened to this young Virginian. ” ee ee TE A EATS : - ; PLE fA YA 4] 9, ‘ Li \ 4, LZ/ Jif f a My f- 5 SLMLLL YL YL: kL Uh, rae a4 j Mi / ; 2 4 monn SIX ILSH fre f ay ry ~~ E M/s Ff) Le Wa ra) ‘FZ J fe tid fl J 7E VE g a ‘ok 4 : f 4 fe b I ee © Oy a € ~ aT wy, ra ") 6 at on aS y4 ye? a N "ol ur y OL b C3 . a ; — ee XT ~£IN rsuant TO far | oF uN is ~~ Pe) \ . fal (al gg mim Sj 61 224 § Am, *4 V8 a -- ~w S&T ./h eR FB 4 W\ET ASS XG Mi f4 ENG . ; = Al 8 z aa i “(jONE SIX TH n\e Faw rn, ww " ) LAG |OFADOLLAR i | ——_————_——_— } 1. VipEATE Toll | . | i <= \ ‘ OUNTER FEIT|{ 4 Be Be vs a re is 2B: =e ia in the political discussions of his times. Jesse Grant married Hannah Simpson in 1821. Of her ancestry little is known, except that they 2 Oo 4GEVSSES Ss: GRANT, 38 had lived in Pennsylvania for several generations. The Grant family were strong Whigs and thought the only salvation of the nation lay in Whig principles. The Simpsons were Democrats, and believed the country ruined beyond hope when the Democrats went out of office in 1860. Ulvsses was born at Point Pleasant, Ohio, in 1822. Being the frst child, the naming was considered a matter of great importance, and all the relatives were finally called in to take part in the choice. Ulysses was the preference of the father, who, although his opportu- nities for education had been extremely limited, had yet read enough ae into the classics to desire a classic name io! the boy who the fond parents little dreamed —rash statement, for who may guess the - z, 4. : ‘ 4} am 1 rT . xr At lay “\ sf y be - ~ visions that flood a mother’s heart’ — would live to add honot! and 1 | renown to the noblest name that could be chosen. [he matter was finally decided by ballot, a fter which ‘‘ Hiram” was prefixed to soothe the grandfather, who was wounded at the ado] tion of the heathen name, but sazd nothing, conquering by silence, lk the great soldier, whose life was then just beginning. but ‘‘| liram = wased name which would not stick to him, hall ithe next year the family removed t Georgetown, Ohio, which remained the home of Ulysses during all his boyhood. FE: - ee se Se es fd L : Tl } J a . : 4 J ] father was anxious that he should be educated and he attended school recularlv. but the school of those days had not mucl SCNOO regu aly, DUE EEC SCNOOIL | LrLOS¢ days Had NOt nucn to . ° 1 “TI | 1 . 1 1 ] sive to a wide-awake boy. The schoolmaster carried a long beech switch in his hand, not for symbolic purposes, but tor switching, as ] ft _ B) ee ee ond a ] : ; af ] ] the future President learned, to his discomfort. He also learned to sav. ‘* A noun is the name of a thing, which he repeated, he says 1n his Memoirs, until Ne nae EOome tO Delenv Le | WO WI1NTeTS he ‘ i PO et ay : \ 7 "17 r 1 spent at school away from home, one in Maysville, Kentucky, the 1 other at Ripley, Ohio. At both of these schools he ‘‘ ciphered through ” the same old arithmetic which he had worn out in George- fown,. whose rules he knew by heart and whose problems he had solved so many times that he remembered the heures from one end to the other and backwards. Here, too, he reviewed the interesting fact that ‘‘a noun is the name of a thing.” And that was about as far as his schoolbooks carried him until he began to prepare for examination at West Point. Se oY comes ee ee eae. : ‘ win Lchaeab Dba er ac uretee sean Nita a eS ee Sag Sin: } ee at aida er aa a Tt Sarees PA Yok te — u s ofem ae VTE MAN OF STLENGE. 39 | 3¢ | ) But if our young friend did not find ereat profit in the instruc- i tion given by the somewhat crude teachers of his day, his education l outside the schoolroom walls went on at a rapid rate. His father had ii atannery anda farm. Ulysses disliked the tannery but liked to ram- \ ble about the farm. He was always tond of horses, and, at the ace of five or six, began to ride and handle them fearlessly. At seven se i eight, he began to haul the wood for use in the house and tannery. Some won- derful stories are ! told of his bare- a back riding and % other feats of 4 horsemanship t about this time. Fi At eleven, he be- We gan to plow. ‘A Atten thate as 4 long as he lived : i at home, he was il generally busy p ) most of the time SS & ‘ Net about the farm, be ve Py ae | except when in “ = es mene ; school. He ad- ae : | mits that he did | = ; not like to work , i in those days, eet i Diilt ju d oinie A trom all reports, GRANT PLOWING AT THE AGE OF ELEVEN YEARS. | he accomplished cn what was given him to do as faithfully as if it had been his one desire. | He was never punished or scolded at home and was allowed more | i freedom than was usually given to boys of his age. He had plenty | of boyish sports, such as fishing, swimming and riding. He seems ee to have been trusted to make bargains and do business to an extent nt surprising to people who had not found out that what a boy needs is Hae to be trusted and that giving him responsibilities 1s one of the best: ened cate Mae ete er GASSES 5Se GRANT 40 ) Saveto make @ man of him. An amusing story is told of one ol | ae T te Ae P| : his first business ventures. W hen he was about eight years old he is f to allow him to go to a neighbor's and buy a colt begged his father to allow him to go to a neighbor’s and bu: which he very much admired. His tather consented, telling him GRANT BREAKING A HORSE. that the colt was not worth more than twenty dollars, and bidding him offer that sum at first, afterwards increasing the price to twenty- five dollars if he found it necessary. Arriving < =~ at the neighbor's house he jumped at once into the business, without preliminaries q mb? TTs Spy , 7 . “ oe roe = fl Seco pe : : 7 iN Sor Sateen tina ae " SERS eee FS DUTT Mrs ins dadeac hahaa eee ee Se trepineni tose aae ae THE MAN OF SILENCE. AI ‘Papa says, remarked the future President, that | may offer you twenty dollars for the colt, but if you wont take that, I am to offer twenty-two and a half, and if you won't take tl] lat, to give you twenty- five.” Strange as it may seem, his customer preferred the last-men- tioned price. General Grant says in his ‘‘ Memoirs ” is nearly true. Ido not repeat it as in the embryo President. that the story a proof of any unusual talent [ once knew a very ordinary boy who went about making a trade ina precisely similar manner, with exactly € was concerned. But his hair is turning gray and he is not President yet. similar results, so far as the trad When Ulysses had reached the age of seventeen, his father obtained an appointment for him at the United States Military Academy at West Point. This was a fine opportunity, for, although Jesse Grant was at that time in fairly good Western farmer, he had five other ch bills for all of them. circumstances for a dren and could not pay college The West Point cadetship provided for all expenses. When Mr. Grant told his son of the prospect, Ulysses replied) ““But I wont oor o “I think you will, said the father And “he went. He had little cntiumeiaecs tor the academy, but h confides to us in his ‘‘ Memoirs > opportunity of going East and Philadelphia. e that he was greatly attracted by the seeing such cities as New York and The news of his appointment made a great stir when it was scattered among the thousand inhabitants of Georgetown. It is said that a neighbor met Mr. Grant in the street one day and remarked, ont. “Is that sora aavest ‘Well, that’s a nice job,” commented the polite but candid neighbor. ‘Why didn’t they appoint a boy that would be a credit to the district?” Cl heat: Ulysses is appointed to West ] Sie He spent a few weeks in studying for his examinations, and then started on what seemed to him a long journey. At his own home, whatever emotion may have been felt on his departure was sternly repressed. When a neighbor wept as she kissed him good-by, he exclaimed in surprise, ‘Why, Mrs. Bailey, my own mother didn’t Cry 4 And now came the first change in his name. His initials spelled SO INI? BIS ©, he had frequently been reminded by mischiet-loving boys.hundred dollars of his own earnings. Forty- : 4 1 1 ay 4 ‘A |B in f re 1c + dallars of this would be needed to deposit at West Foint to1 his . 1 1 a4 ] 1 val ft ass his examinations. Lit homew Ta 1p lest h should al t | : Secuex pice { ; | Ete i a | : m6: es > | 4 é = : i ae | es od ar i ees st It | *; i i eS ores: . i ; ! { he had ever sec eu 4 EXCEDE the On r which | had pass d the I 4. { A 1 . j crest ot the Allechanies. For the rest of the journey he may tell his own story: In traveling by the road from Harrisburg, I thought the perfection of rapid transit had been reached. We traveled at least eighteen miles an hour, when at full speed, and made the whole distance averaging probably as much as twelve miles an hour. This seemed like annihilating space. I stopped five days in Philadelphia, ey OS sical te SIP SPAR NN, = rept slot 2 a * y ARNEL AO EWES iSeman tT ae yer ete aT THE MAN OF SILENCE 43 saw about every street in the city, attended the theatre, visited es + (2 \ e 1 s ‘ aa x 4 > - 5 7 Girard College (which was then in course of construction), and got reprimand ~d from home afterwards for dally ing by the way so long. My sojourn in New York was shorter, but long enough to enable me to see the city very well. I reported at West Point on the 30th or 31st otf May, and about two weeks latet passed my examinations for admission, without di tiiculty, very much to my surprise. ” Then came the second ch: inge in name. The Ohio Representa- tive who had eiven hi im his appointment had made the mistake of upposing that his mid sie name was Simpson, and had so written it in the official record. He was accordingly faced ; it West Point by the It was im possible to ch< unge it and he was henceforth known by the name United States. And now the young cadet plunged into the new, strange life at West Point. The first and most necessary thing to do was to study the ‘‘ Book of Regulations,” for there are rules enough at West Point to control an army. There were ‘‘marks of demerit,” or ‘black marks,” for every offense, thinkable or unthinkable, but also incoramittable, and two hundred marks a year meant dismissal. “To show how easy one can get these,” wrote Ulysses new name, Ulysses Simpson Grant. given him by the not first letters to a cousin at home, ‘‘a man by fen name of Grant, of going to church. He was also put cy arrest, so he cannot leave his room, perhaps for month, all this for not going to church.” this state, got eight of these marks for not a His studies the first year were algebra, higher mathematics and French. He was good in mathematics, never more than moderately good in language, and never quite reaching either end of the class in anything, although he once wrote of his work in French, ‘‘If the class had been turned around, I should have been near the head.” James Longstreet, a fellow-student who afterwards became General Longstreet and fought on the other side in our Civil War, testified of Grant: ‘‘I never heard him utter a profane or vulgar word. He was a boy of good native ability, though by no means.a hard student.” Evidently he was no prig. He seems to have been as ready for fun as anyone, in the right time and place. He was the best horse- man inthe academy, says a room-mate who was intimate with him+ ae ies LB VSSES: S) GRANT A4 (ey regard for truth. ~ Ele at this time. ‘‘ He had the most scrupulous 3 never lield his word licht, He mever said an unt ‘uthful word even He was a cheerful man, and yet he had these moments in jest. wonder- when he seemed to feel some premon! ee of a great future ing what he was to do and what he was to become. : - In the early days at West Point he seems to have had no craving for military life. As time went on, the magnificent presence of General Scott, who now and then appeared and watched the reviews of the academy, inspired a dim longing and almost a presentiment of something not of the common sort. Yet when he lett school at the end of four years, he went away dreaming of nothing more military ind exciting than a professorship of mathematics in some quiet yosition of western town. Upon graduation he was offered the ?P brevet-lieutenant in the infantry service, and it seem st to accept. He received a leave of absence, which he spent in visiting his Ohio friends. There was still enough of the boy left in the young military craduate of twenty-one to realize a sense of disappointment over the delay for several weeks of the arrival of his new unitorm. He wasa little anxious to be seen in it by his old friends, particularly the girls, as he confesses to us in his memoirs. It came at last, and, no doubt, created plenty of admiration. His appearance at this time is thus described by Hamlin Ga Jand, in McClures Magazine: ‘‘At this time Grant was a small young fellow, a little over five feet seven inches in height, and weighing but 117 pounds. His face was strongly lined like his father’s, with fine straight nose and square jaws. A pleasant and shrewd face it was, with a twinkle in the gray- blue eyes when amused, and a comical twist in the long flexible lips when smiling. Huis hair was a sandy brown, and his complexion still inclined to freckles.” He was next ordered to ae Barracks, near St. Louis, where he remained from September, 1843, to May, 1844. During this time he made frequent visits to a classmate residing a few miles sister, Miss Julia Dent. The young Lieutenant did not suspect that there was ‘‘any- thing serious the matter with him,” as he says, ‘‘ until the Mexican from St. Louis. This classmate had a charmin: war broke out and his regiment was ordered to Louisiana. He made the discovery promptly enough then, however, and started out to pay Na a Sete ss caactatte deinen pee ia “apohygtt ITS ib PN feen eeaenaenas mee THE MAN OF SILENCE. y | oi | i | ; | Tt i | i | | i \ | ; li GENERAL SCOTT. a farewell visit and make known his discovery to Miss Dent. On the way he was obliged to ford a swollen river, whereby his handsomeiL VSSES: SY GRANT “ip Be ie a ee Tan pe ea ae uniform was completely soaked. [his was a sorry plight tor a young man on such an errand, but he did not allow himself to be discour- aved. The young lady had a brother, and the brother had an extra suit of clothes. They could be borrowed, and although they did not fit, they were far superior to wet ones. Havine begun the siege, the ; Ee | i cc Se ear ve Fists een officer, like the dauntless Grant at Ft. Donelson, would accept ional surrender. — \\ — = =A S ¢ a — ~ ~ =) Cy ct 1 him her promise to become his wile, a pleage which was not fulfilled until the close of the war, when he came home as Captain Grant, covered with military honors. \N71 Ae (es i Pe i P| Rea ee fie. When the first gun was fired at Falo Alt young Grant was 1 ] 7 if 24 ) 4- ; + + +r rT _ . 4 L ry ‘sorry he had enlisted. But his repentance seems not to have 1 1 x +}, | aN th ] 11917 Interrered WICH 11IS actions. AoaIn at the O Me Ol S LI ISSO ( heart kept getting higher and higher until it d t is throat [ would have given anything then to ha | 1b [llinois, but I had not the moral courage to halt ai E to Go I kept right on That was a good kind rao t to ha enemy had gone But that was the aor < | lences 101 him He says he never felt trepidation afterwards, though he oft as ae felt much anxiety in beginning battle Immediately after his marriage in 1848, h s stationed at Sackett's “Harbor, New York, where he remained over tl not The next two years were spent in Detroit, Michigan. At both those places he had the company of his wife. But when he was o e( to the Pacific coast she went to her father’s home near St. Louis. His two years in the West were years of discouragement. Army es 5 re seemed to mean lasting separation trom his family and scar means Of support tor them. In 1854 he resigned and returned | ret St. Louis, where he spent the next four years on a farm given to Mrs. Grant by her father. He worked hard early and late, but with small success. In 1858 he sold his farming utensils and stock, and went for a time into the real estate business. In the spring of removed to Galena, Illincis, and went to wor] ae ees AN poo al c . ; ie SS NN TNT = ‘ J ee i ILE MAN OF STIL DBNGEBissfan Dea a ee A8 GEVSSES Ss GRANT Nothing could be tamer or more dispiriting than Grants career up to this time. At the age of thirty-eight he » had little behind him but disappointment, and, to all appearances, nothing betore him but failure. He had not even succeeded in the most common-place of attempts, that of providing com ifortably for his family. To add to his humiliation, he was dependent upon his brother for his new position in the tannery at Galena. He felt himself a drawback to their success. When he left his home in St. Louis to enter again upon the employment so hated in his boyhood, it was with a crushing sense of discouragement But the trying scenes of ‘61 to 65 were at hand, and Grant was destined to be one of the chief actors. He was to command a mill- ion men. He was to be an instrument in working out the salvation of a race. He was probably the only man on the American con- tinent who united the skill, the foresight and the nerve to accomplish that tremendous work 1n the wilderness of Virginia. When the great commander had again become a simple citizen, he was to be elected } to the highest office the country had to give. He was to receive the highest h mors that the royalty of the world could bestow. And he was to be followed to his grave by the loving memories of a grateful people. But even after the war had begun, his destiny seemed to halt, and it was some time before he found a place where his talents could make themselves felt. In 1861 the Civil War broke out, and President Lincoln called for seventy-five thousand volunteers. Captain Grant. though a stranger, was called upon to preside at the first war meeting in Galena. He was soon asked to fill a clerkship in the office of the \djutant-General of Illinois fora time. In May following he wrote to the Adjutant-General of the army, at Washington, offering his services for the army. He never received an answer to his letter. He made two attempts to see General McClellan, whom he had known in Mexico, and who he hoped would ot r him a position in his army. He was unable to find General] one , and so carried home another disappointment. It was a disappointment which led to success. When the Presi- dent issued his next call for volunteers, the Governor of Illinois Nad a ila ammmili Pel o ssa fteanh fa ee if 7 rccrca i |Tes THE MAN OF SILENCE. at a ss sy % Ort ou etna piss 3 ss A x < sags a GENERAL MCCLELLAI appointed Captain Grant colonel of the 21st regiment. time on success awaited the man whom failure had followed like a shadow since the close of the Mexican war. He From this was made.r-Genera Drea \ ciaas 4 bi aa a ee ea ts eee nM Sa eee at ae) thee hehehe seated Cees) hits meeay : LE WER ———————— st > y# 7 Sip er Rens TLE TX eet npr ere tay I: t t I os he eS > etre REC ies ae Gane ee ee si Nee Ve tan aaGRANT GLEVS|STEES\ |S: d oiten ‘‘swap _ stories with one another across the trenches and the Union soldiers sometimes divided their rations with the ‘Well, Yank, when are you coming into town? the Con- federates would ask. <‘‘ We will celebrate the Fourth of July there, Johnny,” and they did. The Vicksburg paper, aiter quoting this boast, added: ‘The best recipe for cooking a rabbit is, ‘first ketch your rabbit.’” The morning paper of the Fourth of July, which was printed on the plain side of wall-paper, admitted, ‘‘The Yankees have caught the rabbit.” Five days later, Port Hudson surrendered, and four hundred miles of the Mississippi river was set fre In November of the same year, General Grant again led the army to a brilliant success in the great battles of Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain. \ll this time the great Union army under General McClellan and others in Virginia was accomplishing nothing. The nation began to turn to Grant as its only resource. In March, 1864, President Lincoln appointed him Lieutenant-General and made him practical]lv 5 I I 1 : Th8 P c as : : [ od eto wend Ail 4 yl commander-in-chiet of all the armies. Heat once set about plan- B A pe ae Se eee an IS Te ET 6 eee eae ning the two great campaigns which ended the war. He was himself 1 ] 4 : - Veen aren a 1D aa mie fo to lead the Army of the Potomac through Virginia to Richmond, the Confederate capital. General Sherman was to ‘‘march through ped — a ~~ ol ~~ ef J _ ~ — — c ~ co Georgia to the sea and then northward t We know how well that plan was carried out. On the ath of Jiticl May, General Grant started his army across the Rapidan toward Kichmond, and, seated on a log, penciled a telegram to Sherman to Li General Lee, with the worn-out and hunery but resolute Armv Virginia, was ready to dispute every inch of the way to Richmond. At the battle of the Wilderness the brave General Lee stopped the Union army with terrible slaughter and thought General Grant would turn back. Grant thought differently. He issued the order which became famous during that campaign, ‘‘ Forward by the right flank,” and moved on. At Spottsylvania Court House another terrible battle was fought. The bullets flew so thick that a tree a foot and a half in diameter was cut down by them. It was at this time that(Gramit Mere Seep ee eae " i A ie cea abainidi ie a tn et Mosssartvert’ oS ae Sean cesGENERAL oe” Seog 2 Rais Bees See ue Bed WILLIAM veo LITE MAN OF SHEENGE. eevee oe aE a pls: EA wee SHERMAN. 1 ek | | + { \ i | f { Dilwva 1a ae | }BATTLE GRAN fenea | y “ ie a A aneWLEVSSES Ss GRANDE UNITE battles foll Wwe and before Genera remnants of Lee’s army were ina pitiful co terrible bloodshed, but it was the only wa battle of Shiloh shows that Grant :PE hs srporicsnerio? ie TON.

ago that we do not know much about his good deeds, and scarcely anybody now 7 knows why he is called a saint. But Aas eee Het) two days before, on the 12th of February, a. } we do something even better. For now we have | i 61 i Ds aaa62 ABRAHAM LINCOLN a newer saint than St. Valentine, whom some of us _ have learned to call St. Lincoln, though his first name was Abraham and he never thought of being a saint at all. But you know how every year, when his birthday comes, we all, large and little, love to wave flags and make speeches, speak pieces and sing songs because Lincoln was born. And the most ignorant one amongst us ought to be , able to tell why. cSt. Lincolne be- gan by being just a common baby, nota bit more cun- ning than your own little brothers and sisters, and when he lay in his wood- ay n cradle, sucking Pia his pink fist, he did ¢ 4 not look any more ae } gd like a President, Se bp te mes with a carriage and Seer tour horses and a Me he c iL iL = procession behind a 4 him than vou or | re % se % ve. Ae A ‘leh; ¢ E, EES I é € py | L first time h vok - 1 up and ecnied, he > 1 Was Iho a lithe ola Le — “ | : INCOLN S BABYHOOD. log Galbin= in lea Rue County, Ken- tucky. This century was just nine years old then, and I suppose that fact a 1 | I ways helped him to remember how old he was. There were wide cracks between the logs in the cabin, and the snow some- times came sailing softly down through the ricke ty roof, so that he did not have to read the morning paper or even look out of the window to find out what the weather was. His father, Thomas Lincoln, I am sorry to say, was rather a lazy, shiftless man. so much so that his neighbors called him Tom, even when he was quite an ee i i) ate hake ee se \ ake hi A ems Dee Seen Se Oh EY stssinctt arises ee — + |terete S01) a LTTE ILLINOIS RAIL-SPLITTER. 03 - oD 1 r m=) 4 old gentleman. But I hope he hustled around that cold day and cut wood enough to keep the big fire-place blazing to keep the President warm. His mother’s name was Nancy Hanks Lincoln. and he had She died when she Was nineteen years old and never knew what a proud sister she might have been. When Al one little sister, who was older than he was. raham was about seven vears of ete Ae LJ i eee oa ie . j CO school. ri€ did not Nave a nice new school and a sailor collar. age, he began to LO suit with knee pants He wore a buck- skin jacket and a pair of buckskin trousers. He was barefooted, but he had a nice warm raccoon skin cap which his mother had made for him. His tather found him an old arith- Metre and he started out. He % SNe | had to walk a mile ay aAnG =a half to: his log school-house, : where he found a | teacher -who did ih ke not .know much segnan| a more about books VIOVING LO INDIANA, went to two other 1 . ] Pes i s = Ae ees SAPS aon schools, and it was not long before he knew more than his teachers. pp He never went to school more than a year in all his life. Sut he did not stop studying because there was no one to teach him. On the contrary, he studied harder than ever. 1 When Abraham was about eight years old, his father made up a aaa64 ABRAHAM LINCOLA his mind to move away and try to find a better country for poor people. He sold his farm and started for Indiana to find a new home. When he had found a place in the woods where he thought his family would like to live, he went back to get them. They did not travel by steam cars, because the first train in this country was Y : ol ‘ ] +L, , Plt not going to start until about eleven years aiterwards and they did not want to wait for it, and it was not going to Indiana anyway. - SS te ~ OTT 1 —— ea Pa SOS 5 ek Pa! ey oh foe is ; ae rise Sag ' fae ; Spee THE PROUD POSSESSOR OF A LOG CABIN. 4 wee ve [hey went on horseback, the mother and little Nancy riding on one horse. They had to pack all their furniture, and after that was done there was not much room for human freight. Mr. Lincoln walked a eat deal of the way. [hey had to cross the Ohio river, because it was nearer than it would have been to go around. Then this odd- looking procession moved on through the woods, stopping by night to sleep on a blanket under the stars. When they reached their new grounds, there was no house there, : 5 mn = ar aye oe 7 oN 1 a pie emo HS, Bi as an Te ees ts ieee) STs wd RTPID VeSimei S11) ae LHE ILLINOIS RAIL-SPLITTER. 65 and they had to live out of doors, gypsy-fashion, until Mr. Lincoln could build a shanty. He cut down some young trees and built a hey lived in this about a year, after which the house of poles. ambitious father was able to put up a regular log cabin. It had no floor. What was the use of taking so much trouble to have boards when the ground was there to walk on? There was no glass in the windows, but oiled paper did pretty well in its place. Mr. Lincoln drove some poles into the wall, laid them on crotched sticks at the other end, placed some boards across them, and the bedstead was ready. Some dried leaves and blankets over the boards made a glorious bed when one was tired enough to enjoy it. Then he carved a table out of a big log and made some three-legged stools, and the house-furnishing was complete. What more could anyone wish? d If Abraham Lincoln’s father was not exactly the kind of man we should have selected for the bringing up of such a boy, his mother g more than made it up to him. She was a faithful, hard-working woman and, although she had not much education, she took great pains to teach her son all that she knew herself. There were three books in their library, the spelling book, the catechism and the Bible, and these Abraham, with his mother’s help, learned pretty well in one winter. But Mrs. Lincoln lived only about two years in the new home. They could not have a funeral at the time she was buried, because there was no minister in the country. But Abraham and They thought of Mr. Elkin, a minister whom they had known in Kentucky, and a few months later Abraham wrote a letter to this preacher friend of the family and asked him to come and preach a sermon at his mother’s grave. his father were not satisfied. It was nearly a hundred miles, but the good preacher came through the woods on horseback. Notice had been given through all the country and people came from twenty miles around, some on horseback, some in ox-carts with wheels sawed out of the trunks of trees, and others still on foot. Two hundred persons gathered under the forest trees to listen to the last words of love and respect to the memory of Nancy Lin- coln. . It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Now and then a bird flew over, twittering its carol of hope, and the springing flowers looked up and smiled in childlike faith, trusting that the powerABRAHAM LINCOLN would still COTTE RA Resear ere TS Ra TI ey nen ia) Ver RSE AONE Bn ASABE U e =Simm LAE TELETNOIS RATIL-SPLITTER. 67 The service and the day sank deep into the Abraham Lincoln and touched his |] an added reverence. Years after her death he young soul of ile with a new tenderness and said to a friend. while the tears X HOW LINCOLN FOUND NECESSITY TO BE THE MOTHER OF INVENTION. Started to his eyes, ‘‘All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother—blessings on her memory!” When Mrs. Lincoln had been dead a little more than a year, Mr. Lincoln went back to Kentucky and brought home a second wife, who became a wise and kind mother to the two lonely children.68 chia keine a area SE a hi nn as | ded ABRAHAM LINCOLN She taught them a great many things. In the winter evenings Abraham would lie on the foor with his head on a log pillow and read by the light of the great fire-place. And when his father sent him to bed and he climbed up the row of wooden pins that stood 1 the wall for a ladder, he Se keep his step-brother awake by the hour to tell him what he had read. He did not have a nice shelf- full of pretty picture books such as many children of his age now have about “Little Moonshine” and “ Lotty Simple” and their mates, but he read all the good, sound, sensible books he could hi as the Pilerim’s Progress and A#*sop's Fables both of which he nearly learned by heart. A little before this he learned to write, and he wrote a letter for his father, who could just scribble his own name so badly that he always had to read it himself because nobody else could. ] When he wanted to write or cipher he did not ask his mother for ten cents and run out to the corner to buy a tablet, then scribble a into the waste-basket before Satur- iis hands on, such little on it and tear the rest of it day, as you might have done when you were as young as he was then. That would have proved that your father had a great deal of money and that you could afford to waste as much as youpleased. He used to write with charcoal on a wooden hate or the top of the table and then shave the writing off and begin all over again. Fortunate, isn t it, that you didnt have to learn seven-times-nin¢ have heard that he had one precious copy-book, which he used to keep for the very finest things he came across. In this book he poetry. Here are two lines which he must have in that way? | sometimes wrote eee himself: ‘Abraham Lincoln, his hand and pen, He will be good, but God knows when. ’’ Not very good poetry, was it, for a President to write? Besides this he kept a scrap-book, in which he wrote down everything, his step- mother said. This must have been convenient, for most of his books were borrowed ones, and if he forgot any.of the good things he had read, there they were in his scrap-book. But he took just as much pains to keep things in his mind, always selecting the very best things, remember. And although books were so scarce, his head grew to be ee De a ae ee Se Sh tS pire anny IPI y,69 a oreat Scr the ric ret thy fa 7 { 1\T ah the richest things in the world. And that i use to him when he became the ereatest man scrap-book was oj OoTea}l bo —, 1 t H LINCOLN WAS A GREAT’ ORATOR BECAUSE HE SPOKE FROM THE HEART. 8) in the nation and needed all the world’s best wisdom to decide what Vea Was best for the whole COUNTIVABRAHAM LINCOLN One wav that he had of fixing things tight in his head when h wished to remember them was to repeat them to his st p-brothers when they were out in the field at work. Sometimes he would get upon a stump on Monday and preach the sermon he had heard on Sundav. And sometimes he would preach and make his own sermon as he went along. One daysome boys were cruel to a turtle, just tor fun. That made Abraham feel so bad that he preached a s = Jo S and ear I ct I about it. He said that animals had fee it was mean and cowardly to cause pain to dumb creatures that could not help themselves. I told you in the beginning that Abraham was just a common baby. I want to apologize for that. Of course I meant as common as they ever are. There never was a very common baby, you know ] nD j ] ] . lin aa ] : ] oA ae And when he grew up to be a boy, he was so homely and h d such long, awkward legs, always getting in his way, that | suppose . 1 , 1 i | 1e ae send 1 . I any one who judged him by his looks would have tl S { a common boy. But people can not be cheated in that way a great while, and they began to find out before many years that he was not exactly common after all. I have heard that when he was a b thought he would sometime be President, and that some of his neigh- bors were quite sure of it. I do not know whether that was true or not, but I think if he had known it, he would have gone on doing just the same way to get ready, splitting rails and telling the truth an learning all he could. Wecan not all be Presidents, but some of us will have to be, and we might as well begin t save hurrying b can not do that, we can stay at home and srowl about it, and behave ourselves and study, as Abraham Lincoln did. Andif the country does not need us for Presidents, why, then 1 : 1 it will want us for something else. When he was about nineteen years old, a man offered him eight dollars a month to go down the Mississippi river to New Orleans on a 7 : = et on euien { : . 1 : 1 ; flat-boat and take a Cargo Ol goods. He WaS pleas | LO think Oo} getting somuch money. His father said he might go, and that gave him his first glimpse of the wide world. Soon after that, Mr. Lincoln began to hear about the fine prairie lands in Illinois. He thought he would like to try again and see if hi SPRL ae ae, ra dy a AS eb AK teh a een} o_ eee ERP aes e ce ‘ A ppd 1h) x iS no BU ait TERA IE ak eh it iooi\\ Rede heed ahem sip cai! saute iaieenD eee = a ie Reaperepiaa ea oeSipe TE TELINOLS RAM: SPE spr 71 could find a better home. So he loaded up all his goods on an ox- wagon, and the Lincolns started with two other families for Illinois. They were on the road fifteen day: way. Ihey were nearly lost in the water, but Abraham could not be drowned because he had to be President. When they were all safe across the river, they looked back and saw on the other bank the the way from home. He S They had to cross a riveron the poor homely dog that had followed them all cl ] was afraid he could not swim across. Abraham Lincoln would not 90 on and leave the poor doe behind. He rolled up his pan- taloons and waded back through the icy water and car- ried the poor little fellow across. If dogs could talk, | would tell you what he said. As it was, he only wagged his tail and barked. — All this time a our boy was grow- ine up. When he was twenty-one, he LINCOLN’S HEART WAS ‘TOO BIG TO SEE EVEN A DOG SUFFER. thought it was time to go to work for himself. He went to New Orleans again on an- other flat-boat. This time he saw white people whipping negroes and selling them in the market in New Orleans. He felt then just as he did when the boys were cruel to the turtle. It made him hate slavery. He said then, ‘‘If I ever get a chance, I'll hit it hard.” After this he did a great many kinds of work. He was clerk in a store in a little village called New Salem. Then he bought a store and lost money in trading. But he paid every dollar ot his debt.nT A eee ee a al thane a NS re ——— tm Ae tt eE 72 ABRAHAM LINCOLN |incoln’s honesty did not wait until he was President before it began There are a number of stories of the time when I was a clerk in an Illinois store, which go to show how thoughtful he | was to do, not ‘‘about the right thing,’ but exactly the right thing. AC to show itself. One day a woman came in and bought some goods tor which she paid him two dollars, six and a fourth cents. A added the items again to make sure he had been right, and found He had charged her just six and a fourth cents too > - ] | } > noe ter she had gone he o eld he was wrong. much. It wasevening. Heclosedthe store and walked to her house, a distance of two or three miles, and returned the extra change before he slept. At another time he sold a woman a half pound of tea, as he supposed. The next morning he noticed a four-ounce weight on the scales. He saw at once that he had made a mis- 7 : 1 1 - r take and had innocently cheated his customer o f four ounces ct Pe pe fy ral 7 La 4 z eel le le a 1] 7 ee oa Re ees Cea. He closed Ene SEOLEG ane LOOK ad LOY LN b rOr' breaktast to f - 41 4 i . 1 : delivei Cii¢ tea. Lhe SCG ail Sm | NaS: 4 EG reat a ul E; 1 = ‘ 2 C 4.1 about the character of the I a Be oe As soon as Abraham was old enough, he began to hire out by the dav to the farmers about the country. H : Ye rker and stronger than any other boys Of His age. CI WaS always willing CO - “eA NC 171 { lz y | run errands, write letters, roc} Dp on CV wav he COoOUuL¢ Hi 5s SO full | OO \ S ( have him ab Ul. [he loved S ¢ O J Gs = thing new interesting to talk about nd of telling a ocd yc Iya es | , : COO( ST ali alwavs mMadé Nore LIS ] ] L ES) Elva ie ) | 144 Y7 | I] t | .4 7 ay SECIIEC LO 1]O NlmMms¢ I r11S WI Lact Li | DeEETECLELVY SELEIOUS => | ] ] ] Whoie his isteners were convulsed WIth Meryl [ This tra = hi 71 ] | << of MIS tale HEVer Lele MI even during tne GarKest Nours OL tD wal People sometimes blamed him tor 1oking 1n the midst of such solemn times. It was not because he bore his burdens lightly, but rane tty : ame one 1 Fe Deseo . | ] 1 J > : be Cause they pressea on him so heavily that he nad to find SOME Wa\ to make them lighter. mak thd : A oo; enol 3 re ee C too any 1 1° < : About this time he enlisted in a war to fight the Indians. It was wet li lies AA i lS . et. Joie i : 4 called the Black Hawk War, because the Indian leader was named Black Hawk. [he men chose Lincoln for their Captain. He never killed any Indians, but he saved the life of one of them, and that was better. He next made up his mind to bea lawyer. He had to walk < CUR raerpg eee Ye DOT ag VR orn 2 aT yy -——s sone BV j € li liana ene ee eee ioneonate ST ea! LTE TELINOLS RAE SPEIER 73 a twenty-two miles and back to borrow his first law books. He took | the walk in one day and learned a lesson in law on his way home. his He learned surveying so that he could earn some money to live on | while he was studying law. In those days he wore linen pantaloons i that just reached to the tops of his blue woolen stockings. Some- | times he had only one suspender. He wore a calico shirt and a | straw hat without a band around it. You would not have thought | LINCOLN AS A BOOK AGENT. i him an elegant young man. Sometimes he lived on crackers and a cheese, and other times he had to sleep on the counter in a store. ig But it was not long before he was ready to practice law. About this time he was married to Miss Mary Todd. He was soon after this elected to go to the capital of Illinois and help make it the laws. The capital was not Springfield then, but Vandalia. i A/7 * on © ~ \ li r F = After a few years he was sent to Washington to help make laws to1 the whole country. And now people began to think he was not a“4 ABRAHAM LINCOLN common man. Hewas not afraid to say what he thought, and he made some great speeches. A few years later, some of the people wished to give Mr. Lincoln a still higher office, that of United States Senator. Another party wanted to elect Stephen A. Douglas to the same office. The two men went about Illinois together making speeches. One would make a speech and the other would answer it. Mr. Douglas was sometimes called the <‘ Little Giant.” This was because his body was so small and his mind was so great. He was elected to go to Washington and Mr. Lincoln had to stay at home. But p ople remembered the speeches he had made. And more than that, they remembered that he wasan honest man. They began to call him ‘‘ Honest Abe.” The next time our country needed a new President, a great many people began to think about the ‘‘ Date Giant” and a great many others thought of ‘‘ Honest Old Abe.” Mr. Lincoln’s friends sot some of the rails that he had split on his father’s farm thirty years before. I a trimmed them up with flags and bunting and took them all over the country to let the people see them. They called Mr. Lincoln the ‘‘ Rail-splitter.” They were not ashamed that their candidate had once worked hard with his hands. Perhaps he could now work all the better with his brains. Most of the Re- publicans in the country voted for Mr. Lincoln, and most of the northern Democrats for Mr. Douglas. But this time it was the ‘Little Giant” who had to stay at home, for Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States. Perhaps you think Mr. Lincoln's hard work was over now, and that he was glad he had no more rails to split. he truth is that his for ne after he was elected hardest and saddest work had only begun a long and terrible war broke out 1n our countr [his was in 1861. Mr. Lincoln wanted the nation to be at peace a1 a4 worked hard all the rest of his life to end the war. One great reason for this war was the fact that the Northern and Southern people were not acquainted with one another. It takes a long time even now with our fast trains to go from one end of our ereat country to the other. And in 1861 we had not nearly so many railroads as we have now. Consequently travel was not so common and the people of the North and South had fewer opportunities of a es — eee as NH a a ae Sew I RSE PIES fe ae sh a re Septet aShoel ES, oLH TELINOLS RAMEE SPEIER 2 SRS t of Sep: os Aeea Renee Obey eager - ' Se ee eis mpi a a ae en ee SN Ore tines fk a AO ABRAHAM LINCOLN / meeting. The natural result of this was that they misunderstood and hated each other. The story is told of Charles Lamb, an English writer, with a ready pen but a stammering tongue, that: in speaking heh-hate ehiat man How can VOU hate him r ‘ sked the friend 1 | 4 - LI) C=EN AE S Le Was IE b S Te p | \ h- ite him if -n-knew him? | ~ imnern peco-# De 1 GG that North wanted L L lI slave > (ron the 1) lout pay, and th ple of the \ h Uusht the ec ] it d CO J 1 iE qestroy the nation, have CVeChV-— thine their own v. There was some truth in these complaints, but SLAVES ON A PLANTATION. ey were not en- tirely true. Yet, strange as it may seem, the more the people be- lieved them, the truer hey came to be. 1 C I have told you that Mr. Lincoln thought slavery was a great wrong. Yet at first he thought-he had no right to interfere with it. > ;LITE IELINOIS RATE-SPLITTER. bey my // But the Southern people heard so m. iny false things about him that the »y believed he was their worst ene my. And when he was elected y . ie iv ® jes Ag. M3 ; - , ye “ons a vr sre ay hye ABRAHAM LINCOLN. President, a number of the states seceded and declared they would have a nation of their own and rule it to suit themselves. They fired on Ft. Sumter and the war began. Mr. Lincoln believed it was/ pf his duty to try to keep the Union called for volunteers to put down the to do this and cost the lives of mally sides; In 3, President Lincoln set who wished it a chance to fight for th Many of them made President anes OTE Ie] arta | BRED J ple JOHN WILKES BOOT! were st tused had an interview sara Mr. Pre made an example of, the army itself is aes rie snatch i‘ ae aa te ee cee TPR ; 4 is Gale 79 ABRAHAM LINCOLN 5 thousand Drave Lincoln was often very sac : Croub ow 1] | - Bs ADIE ST é 4 é te = ) pe T 1\¢ 4 L\ i pathneti 1 T 1,117 In Ty1i1t | { Ot LIL© POY | Ty é I ¢ L, -~ } iif i | LU) Sct V ¢ \ \] LT] a from being broken up. He took four years men on both those = Ol tne 8} LL 1) CO be S \ i= 1 | ] eae ] and kindly to everybody : 1 ™ A : itters the President had of | death and many 1 Calni¢ L ] ATaGONS IO] | - qs i S LVS TeAaG\ | LL he POss1bD] e 1¢ iic< -}h 1 |] VW 1O {DI i ( L L ( Cite Le veel l COmMmMand rour aesercters sen- ( rt to be shot lI US U i €xXecuvion 4 ) et 4 t to the President He re- 4 \AJ 4 At ; VEIVE ht V\ ishineton, and len UHLSSS fHEeEse Men ave - F { - ‘ Mercy to the few are already sorely, SS ate eo) Nahas gus: —" r meSan aaa TT a TILE, TELENOTS RAW SPA OPT PERE IIT poe30 ABRAHAM LINCOLN to be shot for desertion. A friend case to the President. Well, iL it signed the parden while an odd smile lit up his sad, homely. face, ‘‘T think the boy can do us mort eround.” A book could be filled with 7 people who were poor and helpless. excuses for the sins of other people. The bells were ringing and the country when a very sad thing 4 theater in Washineton with his half crazy man named John Wilk President's box and shot him in th Pi Sahil ha) pone one sa ar ay x —_ t a i a) ee NS a hi SRY Mr AO erent EES SAP BRS ey SERN on eves) Linco fio) ihnldo) iweke spoke again, but died the next mol } than under See ete el ara : his kindness to could almost always find JOY all OVer In was at 1 ‘ r | ends when a2 + T_] i ae a rie Neve! ; all turned io had freed Southern best friend. birth- Dy o 7 pee ifTS Nee Her court was pure, her life serene : ner peace; hei id reposed ; yusand claims to rever- ence closed Wife, and and (sood ountry was ush- ys of intellectual activity whicl | us the first Erie Canal. In poor unhappy France, Kine Louis XVIII. was vainly strugeling to preserve some fragments of law and order. In England, King [. still sat om his throne. is mind flickered in darkness in the citadel of his brain. The poor old king had long since been hopelessly insane, olQUEEN VICTORIz 4 and George IV. as Prince Regent, was actual ruler of the land. It » was the 2ath of May, 1819, the year in which the first steamship \ PORTRAIT OF QUEEN VICTORIA TAKEN AT THE TIME OF HER DIAMOND tae crossed the Atlantic, that a little oir] was born in london who was to become Oueen Victoria and ruler over a vast empire. ) re es ay no Be aia te Se ee ee TTT EAs; cs arpowsi re \ a ¥ i —_ fSerpe TT ets ae EMPRESS OF INDIA. — 83 ictorlas tather was Ed younger ward, the Duke of Kent. a an (2 o “yO T\7 . brother of Geore: would himself have LV. and Walliam 1V. Ele been king of England if he had outlived William IV., who left no children. [he Duke of Kent lived much of his life out of Eneland. ‘THe received a military education in Hanover. Germany. He was stationed at Gibraltar for-a time. and afterwards spent some years in Canada as commander-in-chief of the British army. He took ereat interest in the people while there and was active in many kinds of benevolent work. He is stil] very dear to the Canadian heart. One of the great stone gates in Quebec is named for him and the people of that city always speak of him with ereat tenderness. He a living presence to-day in that quaint old city, and one finds it hard to realize that he has been dead century. SCeIMs more than three quarters of a 1 When he was about nity years of age he married Louisa Victoria, Princess of Saxe-Coburg in Central Germany. She was the widow of Prince Charles of Leiningen, and had two children, Charles and Anna Feodora. She is said to have been ‘‘altogether most charming and attractive.” The Duke and Duchess were living in Kensineton Palace. London, when the future queen was born. She was baptized in a gold font by the Archbishop of Canterbury when she was a month costly font added to her piety. Her EMC L old. I wonder how much the uncle, George IV., named her Alexandrina, for the Emperor Alexan- der'of Russia. It is said that her father wished to call her Elizabeth because the Enelish like that name, but the Prince Kegent said if she must have another name it should be her mother’s. Hi ingly added the name Victoria, takine care to Say, precede that of the Emperor.” As a little girl she was known as ‘Princess Drina,” but when she became Queen, mother’s name and gave commands that she Victoria. The Duke of Kent had often said that he should live to be kine of England, although there were several heirs between him and the throne. But his health b: his own life drawing near, > ACCOrd- ‘but it must not she chose her should be called can to fail. Then as he saw the end of he would take the baby Victoria in his arms and say, ‘‘ Take care of her for she will be queen of EnglandeepmeeniSdineetin sie cee 84 QUEEN VICTORIA When she was six months old he went with his family to the south coast ‘‘to cheat the winter” and try to piece out his fast Bainomlives lt was of no use. wo months later he died. His IV. became king of England. The Duke of Kent, being a younger son, had never had a large father, George III., outlived him just six days, and his brother George income and had been of a generous nature. He had never econo- 1 . ; : g eel if J § mized and therefore left large debts behind him when he died. One of the first acts of the Duchess, Victorias mother, after his death, was to give up all his property to his creditors. This left her and her children dependent for the time being upon her friends. Her brother, Prince Leopold, afterwards king of Belgium, came to her aid in this trouble and generously provided her a early income of 3,000 pounds, or about 15,000 dollars. He con- \ tinued CO do this [Ol SOME years, OF until the Enelish cvovernment made it unnecessary by providing sufficiently for Victoria and her family. Prince Leopold lived tor some years at Kensington Palace . 1 1 1 4 Se ce onl oA nas interect 4 with the Duchess and her children, and took a deep interest in the iL iL. eal ee Pa eae ples eae education of the young princess Victoria. He had been the husband of the dauchter of George IV., that Princess Charlotte whom the Dest | 2 | le 1) Enolish nation so tende! [he English | Ns ane they Nad: 1OnGIv NODEaG CO St (CHNaniOLte On ENG JLENCusp EnVone one day. But Sine di at twenty-one. When, shortly bi fore he Tr own her infant son, she said; “1 am orieved for myself, for the English people; but, oh, above all, I feel it for my dear husband. When told she could not live, she said: Tell it to my husband—tell it with caution and tenderness, and be the happiest wife in Eneland.” It was th ucht by some that Victoria resembled her. Princess Victoria as a baby was ‘‘blue-eyed and plump as a partridge.’ A number of portraits painted of her when quite a young child are still preserved. One of the best likenesses is a bust done in marble when she was two years old, and now kept in Windsor castle. She is thus described by Jane Porter, the celebrated author of the scottish Chiet — —_ ~ St. ~ sribing the infancy of the princess I would say she was a beautiful child, with a cherubic form of features, clustered round by glossy fair ringlets. Her complexion was remark- ae : ei os ee : Sa a a a a ee A Nile aha ia ia ee IN mets Roa Fiireneh | Fe fScrmmmm ST Try) we EMPRESS OF INDIA. 85 ae transparent, with a soft but often heightening tinge of the sweet tush-rose upon her cheeks, that imparted a peculiar brilliancy to her clear blue eyes. Whenever she met anv strangers in her usual paths she always seemed, by the quickness of her glance, to inquire who and what they were. Lhe in- telligence of her countenancewas extraordinary at ner very early age, but might easily be ac counted tor on a perceiving the g extraordinary in- telligence of her Is At Kensine- ton Palace the lnétle princess was brought up very simply and naturally, quite like a little girl Shy in the ardinary walks of life who never thought of wearing acrown. Their way of liv- Ine is thus de- scribed: ‘‘Break- CHILDHOOD OF VICTORIA. fast at exoit oclock, Princess Victoria having her bread and milk and fruit put on a little table at her mother’s side. After breakfast there was a walk or drive for an hour; and then, from ten to twelve, she was in- structed by her mother, after which she would amuse herself run- ning through the suite of rooms which extended round two sides of pe a aAY) aS saa i ale 5 abe: Sea oe Se AR eye aAIELEDE ; cin 86 QUEEN VICTORIA the palace. At two came a plain dinner, while the duchess took her luncheon. . After this, lessons again till four, then a visit or drive; and after that the princess would ride or walk, or sit out on the lawn under the trees with the rest of the party. At the time of her mother’s dinner she had her supper laid at her side; then, after play- ine with her nurse (Mrs. Brock—‘dear, dear Boppy ), she would join the party at dessert, and at nine go to her bed, which was placed by the side of her moth« Sry Like any common little girl, Victoria was fond of dolls, though, unlike most little girls, she had enough to stock an orphan asylum. The doll census ea 4 : An 1 ac reported a hun- } ie So 1% 4 1 sie @eee dred and thirty- two in hem mir Sery. dhe learned to sew exquisitely - le > aun : by making their =" ] 7 clothes, but I can- not believe that san = banged — co cr _ Nw eh Mae aa RSE aS ee’, ainsi le i cnn —— ee eo ———— T 1 that she knew CANAL AND GARDENS, HAMPTON COURT, ENGLAND. them all by then In these Gardens is Located the Pages oval Be ACE in Great Britain \n Hour’s Rid name | 1 SUI she I not L£C- member all the names of everv one. if the doll princ ail al . i CAV: io oY Jil . Li LIC i( Lt Prine SS "> CEC te) > ] “4 > 7 San "- VAG - . + ] ; LT] HK] well supplied with names as most young ladies of noble blood, even if she had taken a course in Professor Loisette’s Memory System, which of c ‘se she h: : : ] which of course she had not, because she was unfortunate enough to 7 a r\t Ee « Le mae ] ] live too soon for that. Butif they could not all be loved and put LO bed and crooned to SiCep every NICHE as 1S En« rlgnt oO} Lt COM: - nN next ies bata ] ] 1 . 2 ‘ ry Nn 1 | T JQtT OOTY wl rv) ™ “7 < T7717 mh + , 4-1, ] mon, pleve lan doll, they served a purpose quite essential hal qelal ite Pe Bes a ine a Fg ee 1 . , , of al princess, fOr the royal dolls were used as dummies to teach the future queen the elaborate ceremonies of t LF TG TV res, 2 2 a oo See Pinay! wee: he tee Sere ESET Kee Sr SOLE eprertes Ua iEMPRESS OF INDIA. 87 dolls, and the poor, poor Princess! But Victoria’s mother was a sensible woman, and, as far as possible, saw to it that her little daughter was not robbed of her sweet. simple childhood. Up to the time of her becoming queen, she led a remarkably quiet and undisturbed life for a princess. Her dress was usually as simple as any child’s could well be. Lord Albemarle paints a pretty pen-picture of her in his auto- biography: A pretty little girl, seven years of age, engaged in watering the plants immediately under the window. It was amusing to see how impartially she divided the contents of the watering-pot between the flowers and her own little feet. Her simple but becom- ing dress—a large straw hat and a white cotton eown—contrasted favorably with the gorgeous apparel now worn by the little damsels of the rising generation. A colored fichu round the neck was the only ornament she wore.” Victoria was early taught that even a princess must not spend money beyond her income. Perhaps her mother was the more care- ful about this because she remembered the debts of her husband. the Duke of Kent, some of which were still unpaid and rested uneasily upon herconscience. Victoria’s training in this direction is illustrated by an incident which occurred when she was about eight years old. Visiting a bazaar with her governess, she spent all her money for presents for her friends. She then wished to buy a toy fon a cousin whom she had forgotten. The price was a half crown and the attendant was willing she should take it. But the coverness said, ‘‘No. You see the princess has not the money, and so, of course, she cannot buy the box.” The attendant cladly offered to keep the box until Victoria received her next allowance, when she went back and made the desired purchase. Another pretty picture of her childhood is given us by Leigh Hunt: ‘‘We remember well,” he says, ‘‘the peculiar pleasure which it gave us to see the future queen, the first time we ever did see her, coming up a cross path from the Bayswater gate, with a girl of her own age by her side, whose hand she was holding as if she loved her. A magnificent footman in scarlet came behind her, with the splendid- est pair of calves in white stockings which we ever beheld. He looked somehow like a gigantic fairy, personating for his little lady’s sake838 QUEEN VICTORIA the grandest kind of footman he could think of; and his calves he seemed to have made out of a couple of the biggest chain lamps in the possession of the godmother of Cinderella.” ‘It was not until she was about eleven years of age that the possibility of her great destiny was brought to her attention. In studying the genealogical table of the kings of England, which had > > been purposely put in her way by her governess, her curiosity was aroused and she inquired who would become king in case of the death of George IV. The governess told her that her uncle William VOuld be the Next heir to the throne. “Yes that | know. she ] replied, ‘(but who will succeed him cess, said the ZOVETe ness, who seemed unwilling to give a direct answer, ‘‘ You have Several uncles!” Ihe princess was muchaffected. ‘‘ True, I have; she answered, but I perceive here that my papa was next in age to my uncle William; and it does appear to me, from what I have just been woth dead, I shall reading, QC that when he and the present king are become queen of England.” From that time on, her education was more carefully attended to than ever. She learned Latin and became familiar with several on = Wate ley anc eane it : : 7 LK] 2 Moder tanguavVges. SLE showed considerable talent fOr MUSIC. She | | paid great attention to history as laying such a foundation for prac- tical politics as a queen would need. At twelve years old she went ~ with her mother ona tour through the principal cities of Eneland and Wales, studying carefully into their historical and industrial interests. ag 7 During this tour the princess bestowed the prizes on the successful musicians at the Welsh Eisteddfod, a musical convention held at Beaumaris. She laid the corner-stone of a school, named a bridge, cL ae z ° e = » ] 1 ] 1 ‘ 58 / a planted an oak, and became a eod-mother. She visited Oxford 4 oe f and received a present of a handsome Bible and an account of her a visit on white satin. The next year the princess and her mother spent some tim« on the Isle of Wight, off the southern coast of Eneland. There they were as free as a royal maiden could be from the artificial 1 restraints ol society, oiten leaving the tootman at home and taking : we loreae yl nied : i ; long walks alone to enjoy the beauties of the islanc [he young princess became of age on the 2Ath day of May, 1637. Parliament was closed in honor of her birthday and a State Sena Seaton , vom feaeee ite t < a ity 7 vA" ya ia hie Ee ‘ OPT OE NPAT MS OT erty 2K ee A ee a a See ee | ne Ses ine Esathoesht oe ) o ~ ff———— Samm T Tn f 7 Sia oat oe EMPRESS OF INDIA. 89 i ball was given at the palace of St. James. But more serious matters he were soon to claim her attention. ie King William IV. died early on the morning of the 20th of June, i reey7. DPlre Archbishop of Canterbury and ‘the Lord Chamberlain started immediately for Kensington Palace toannounce the event to the | princess. leaching the palace about five o'clock in the morning, they | sent the announcement that they had come ‘‘on business of state to the q | I 4, ‘| nt ti | ih Is} HH ; , ' REAR VIEW OF WINDSOR CASTLE—THE FAVORITE HOME OF THE QUEEN. a TWENTY-ONE MILES FROM LONDON. il queen.” She came into the room with her eyes filled with tears. The it first words of the new queen were, ‘‘I ask your prayers on my behalf.” i As soon as the messengers had left her, she wrote a letter of | sympathy to her aunt, Queen Adelaide, asking her to remain at Windsor as long as she liked. Windsor Castle is always at the serv- ice of the king or queen, and would consequently now fall to Victoria. She addressed the letter to ‘‘Her Majesty the Queen.” Some one ae suggested that the address was incorrect, as she herself was now queen. ‘‘l am quite aware of her majesty’s altered character; but I will not be the first person to remind her of it,” she answered.ater Tr nn ae eae : , is. ae re —— ee — oe ae Me SS 5 RE Te A eS ed SR SS z3 of pe QUEEN VICTORIA a ' On the next day the young queen met her Privy Council at Kensington Palace. This Council is made up of the principal bishops, lords and judges of the kingdom. They had met to make the formal announcement of the death of the king and to receive what we might call the inauguration speech of the new queen and her oath to support the constitution of England and secure the rights of all her subjects. They also took the oath of fidelity to her as their queen. It was a hard position for a young girl of eighteen, and she seems to have behaved well. Sir Robert Peel said he was amazed at her manner and behavior, and the Duke of Wellington was heard to remark that if she had been his own daughter he could not have desired to see her perform her part better. But perhaps the admira- tion of these gentlemen was a little overwrought. The truth seems to be that she was somewhat embarrassed but that she was sensi- ble enough to look to her advisers for counsel, and that she behaved : as might have been expected of any well-educated girl of good 3 sense and judgment. She read her speech with a clear voice and remarkable self-possession for one so young. The next day, June 21, Victoria was publicly proclaimed Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. Ihe ceremony took place im St James's palace. The young queen stood in an open window looking out upon a court where an immense crowd was gathered. While the proclamation was being read, there were frequent shouts of ‘‘ God a ( save the Queen!” Victoria was affected to weeping. Elizabeth Barrett Browning has written a poem in memory of this scene, one stanza of which reads as follows: a ‘God save thee, weeping Queen, : Thou shalt be well beloved: The tyrant’s scepter cannot move As those poor tears have moved. The nature in thine eyes we see Which tyrants cannot own— | The love that guardeth liberties. Strange blessing on the nation lies, eo: Whose Sovereign wept { Yea, wept to wear its crown.’’ ea aN Se hiiaa ahha a ee ee eye sere) Z ae ay , bia 4 ees Bea ee 8 aaa SN a eh a ae Se A hide al en ae ee ONIN Goa AN pr } ~— pe iEan ane Se EMPRESS OF INDIA. ep A few days later, the queen left her girlhood’s home at Kensing- ton for the more luxurious palace of Buckingham. ( )t 4] A 7 T f ra 4 1 (~ = - 7 | On the 17th of July she read her first speech in Parliament. [he impression she then made is so well described by Fanny Kem- ble, the greatest actress of the day, that I cannot forbear quoting rom her account: { De Le a, Ze - ZG ae RN eet SSDS WAV Baits omits qi is ie pa Sos & : S yee x EF, a) fe.) “bie, ET a ee hate eee 7 ath cog he oath a ‘ wire st rae Bri a a ms HA ee DSI 4 Ih Renan oa Bt An ee sat) a cea? ra 2 CAE east ane AAS eee ie eco F ee Rant See Pees ae < 4 > ae BUCKINGHAM PALACE—THE LONDON HOME OF ENGLAND’S RULERS. ‘The Queen was not handsome, but very pretty, and the singu- larity of her great position lent a sentimental and poetical charm to her youthful face and figure. The serene, serious sweetness of her candid brow and clear soft eyes gave dignity to the girlish counte- nance; while the want of height only added to the effect of extreme youth of the round but slender person, and gracefully molded hands and arms. The Queen's voice was exquisite, nor have I ever heard4 TT ie Oe. eel eles : ea CR a TES ER I a i 92 QUEEN VICTORIA ] | Lords and Gentlemen,’ which broke the breathless silence of the illus- ower of royalty. any spoken words more musical in their gentle distinctness than ‘My : zt trious assembly, whose gaze was riveted on that fair The enunciation was as perfect as the intonation was melodious, and I think it is impossible to hear a more excellent utterance than that of the Queen’s English by the English Queen. © ‘An instance of her gentleness I must not leave unrecorded. Soon after she became queen, the Duke of Buckingham brought a death-warrant to her for her signature. Ihe tears started to her eyes and she said earnestly, ‘‘ Have you nothing to say in behalf of this man?” ‘* Nothing,’ was the reply. ‘‘He has deserted three times.” ‘‘Oh, your Grace, think again!” ‘‘ Well, your Majesty,” returned the ‘‘Iron Duke,” ‘‘though he is certainly a very bad solder, some witnesses spoke for his characte lr, and, f li xht | know CO the contrary, he may be a good man. ‘‘Oh, thank you tor tl thousand times!” said the queen. She hastily wrote ‘‘ pardoned ” across the paper and returned it to the Duke with a trembling hand. Her use of the first large sums of money which were placed at her disposal on her becoming queen, was to pay the debt which her father had left. She said to th lini | that remains of my fathers debt. I consider it a sacred duty.” She also gave valuable presents to those who had suffered by waiting so long for their money. This was noble in her, though perhaps there is danger of praising herfor it too much. It was not a great sacrifice and any other course would not have been honorabl Victoria had been reigning queen a little more than a year when she was crowned. [he ceremony took place in Westminster Abbey on the 28th day of June, 1838. The old crown weighed about seven pounds, and a new and lighter one was made that would not rest so heavily on the head of the young girl queen. It was made of several silver hoops clasping a deep blue velvet cap. The hoops were cov- ered with precious stones, among which were sapphires, emeralds. rubies, pearls, and two thousand seven hundred and eichty-three diamonds. The Queen wore a robe of crimson velvet. Kneelin x, with her hand on the Bible, she took the oath to uphold the church and state. The anthem rang out through the spacious abbey, and the scholars Shite : ees is rapa as ; re Senta SeBaRa Dette kok roe hock eee ON eas Pe et ca ed * i ii a ace UC Ernebe tar tn PeR Eo= ae EMPRESS OF INDIA. 92 of the Westminster school. according to ancient custom, exclaimed, “Victoria! Victoria! Vivat Victoria Regina!” (Long live Queen Victoria. ) Then followed the litany Hdward’s chair, in which al] the sovereigns of England have been crowned since Ed- on ward the Confessor. Under- and sermon. The Queen sat in St. neath the chair was the Stone of Scone, the ‘Stone of Destiny,” on which the Scot- tish kings were formerly crowned. Four Knights of: the Garter held a cloth of gold above her head and the cu- rious ceremony of anointing was performed, in accordance with the old Jewish custom of anointing kings and proph- ets; he Dean of West- minster poured some oil into len aah by a Ms the gold anointing spoon and the archbishop poured the oil on the head and hands of the Queen, marking them im the torm Of a cross. Phe spurs and sword, the ring and scepter were offered, the archbishop placed the costly ‘THE CHAIR IN WHICH ENGLAND’S RULERS crown on the fair young head, ARE CROWNED—WESTMINSTER ABBEY. and all the people shouted, ‘“God save the Queen!” It was a thrilling moment. It was a great destiny that was thus laid upon this sweet young English girl of nine- teen years. Yet it is given to many a crownless woman to wield as creat an influence as this Queen of Great Britain and Empress of India has done. There is no crown like that which character mayo4 QUEEN VICTORIA set upon a girl’s fair brow, and no Indian Empire so vast as that she may sway by the love and loyalty of a blameless lite. A great many things have to be thought of in arranging the marriage of a queen, and too often the feelings of the persons who ju g have the be St richt to be consulted are VEL. little considered. Victoria was most fortunate in this respect. Between her and her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg, who first visited her the year before she became queen, there grew up a genuine love, such as seldom comes to a happy ending in the case of princes and princesses outside the fairy tales. Albert was the favorite nephew of that uncle Leopold, who, it will be remembered, had done so much for Victoria : a Atal ] : oe a tL : ee eee ] 1n hei childhood. He was a VOUNnLS Man WOT! In every way to be Cire wWspband OL BNLiandads queen. Wil ChE Gay OF Ft engeacement ] 1 T she w1 ee LO Wer UT Leopold, VI 1) S$ qu D and | I aaa [ne ] T] | ] TOId VIDECEE ER Ot ne O} C i S| WA Cd ne on I LI ] Jy LIS J LI) ¢ OJ L 1) 5 > LIOTI, and eT | ] J thin) lat ive the prosper D E Ss betol ni 7 th | 7 y tL HeV WM I laAIrie 11) LO ) 1 | Lii¢ Lit (OL 1] nse] LU) SISt ()y 7} ind arts and did a ereat deal to encoura lucati Ldustry. Ele is perhaps best remembered by the exhibition at the Crystal Palace Nn nd T) TT +. co L 7 1 ] 1 in Lo { t the s ; n il exhibitions OL V hicl EME W rl 5 L 1D tT) cl } t | last ‘ id oreatest In th cours rs nin child IC [ et the val family [hey v ue D ry sim] re carefully educated Both the O l the Prince al VS insisted that ther should treat evel ( [ Derrect Courtesy by a sailo1 FE you are, my ] idy, said the sailor as he deposited his little bi 1 on the dec I am not a little lady: 1m a princess, ’ ret ithe little maiden ‘You had better tell the kind sailor who carried you that you are not a little lady vet : though you hope to be one some day,” said the Oueen is o 1ome in the Isle of F Wight. It was a beautiful place and brought welcome rest from Bi tea achat he ner Se, Seas , mee oe ‘i & ae ae : oe ae eats ci Bas Se i I ee LUNN CMs Hoes bneri| Ss sSaracen. neaeenenentaee Remmi YITVY81 1) if EMPRESS OF INDIA. the cares of state. Besides the handsome stone palace, she built a cottage with a kitchen and a dairy where her daughters learned to cook. The boys had a carpenter shop, and all of the nine children had gardens which they tilled and whose products they sold in the market. : They had also a palace in Scotland, where they often went to enjoy the mountain air and scenery. A great many pleasant stories are told of the Queens kindness to the poor peo- r - Eee ple in the neighborhood. She kept a journal while she was here at different times, which was atter- wards published under the title of ‘‘ Life in the Highlands.” One of her books is dedicate d to ‘My Loyal Hy especially to the memory | yhlanders, and of my devoted personal attendant and _ faithful friend, John Brown.” In aess Wer eldest daughter, Princess Vic- toria, was married to the Crown Prince of Ger- many, who later became the Emperor Frederick prince aLBERI’S TOMB, LONDON. IN THE William. The separation GARDENS OF WINDSOR CASTLE. was a severe trial to the Queen. The account in her journal of her farewell to ‘‘ Fritz” and “Vicky” is most touching. The year 1861 brought the death of both her mother and her husband. During the last illness of the Prince an incident occurred : which particularly endeared him to Americans. It was in connec- tion with the Trent affair. In the fall of 1861, Mason and Slidell were sent by the Confederates as ambassadors to England. Theya es 96 QUEEN VICTORIA succeeded in getting through the blockade and boarded the Irent, an English vessel. The ship was stopped by Captain Wilkes, of the San Jacinto, and the two commissioners were sent as prisoners to Boston. The English were indignant. Lord Palmerston wrote a dispatch in a haughty tone, demanding the instant liberation of the commissioners. Prince Albert was so ill he could scarcely hold a pen, but fearing the result of such a message, he caused himself to be propped up in bed and wrote a more friendly one. Our government promptly apologized, as it very likely would have done in any case, but no less credit is due to Prince Albert. It was the last thing he ever wrote. Queen Victoria has now reigned longer than any other English sovereign. The Queen's Jubilee, commemorating the fiftieth year of her accession, was celebrated in 1887 with great splendor; and in 1897 the sixtieth year of her reign was made the occasion of great rejoicing both in England and her colonies. I have said little of public affairs in England, for this is a sketch f bit of Queen Victoria and not a history of England. The truth is that | English history during these years has been very little affected by the sovereign. Matters would probably have gone on much the same with a bad king or queen on the throne, as the sovereign has very little power. She signs a great many documents and formally transacts a great deal of public business, but the direction of affairs is mainly in the hands of considerably less power over the making of laws in Great Britain her ministers and Parliament. She has than the President has in this country. If her own death warrant were brought to her by Parliament for her signature she would be obliged to sign it or descend from the throne. During this period the armies of Great Britain have conquered in many parts of the world. The Opium War forced the Chinese at the point of the bayonet to allow the importation of opium raised in the British possessions of India. I am glad we may not charge that directly to Queen Victoria. The English arms were victorious in the Crimean War. Frequent rebellions in India have been ‘ crushed, and the Queen of England was declared Empress of India in 1876. Great progress has been made in many ways during the sixty- Beat aE ; Le i, ne One, camer fr he - rhb esha), c ee ety ae RAPES Peo Ne ~ afte 7 al > i ye | ia iS AS hy eit Dat ae oh ee Ska SC ae aR ansiae ieen ONES Papurstinasts aes Ss HySermems Stirs a EMPRESS OF INDIA. LONDON. ry ie BUILDIN( eee NT PARLIAME ih “apege ae areassci, 98 QUEEN VICTORIA Biel veare of Victorias ceion. In the year of her marnage the postage on letters was reduced to two cents each. Largely through the magnificent efforts It had been as high as twenty-five cents. of Mr. Gladstone, the right of voting has been extended to a large ioious freedom has been secured in Ireland, part of the population, relig and Irish land laws have been passed which have oreatly improved 7 ] the condition of the poor in that country. The Atlantic cable was i laid in 1858 and the public school system was established in 1870. But though Queen Victoria has had little to do directly with these great changes, the indirect influence of a woman of genuine heart and noble purposes in so prominent a position can never be “The Enelish like queens,” and will continue to like them so long as their good fortune brings such women as Victoria to Long live Queen Victoria! measured. the throne. he Fa rs Ks i oe — ANAT Ne | ee Ser ean = rr _ ie Ui Pagan a ee So) iia aoe Se eae - PN ST RS fh A H atest nA Rel hes eee UIT Mri in tih Pm Bk — ae aa f a of ilememes THE POET OF THE PEOPI Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer Or tears from the eyelids start. —Long fellow. HO does not remember and hold in his heart the “« Craigie house” in Cambridge, Massachusetts, that old colonial insion, the headquarters of war at the bee o Revolution and for nine months the hon Martha Washington, since consecrated again for he ia ing world as the home of the poet Lonetellow? > inning of the of Ge POT Se and A tall hedge of lilacs shuts out the dust of Brattle street and shuts in tl 1e quiet of green lawns with two orassy on LCES < two stately elms. The house is large and old-f ne a and painted white and buff. A ereat old-time knock ld r still ct hanor on the door, though there is a ind one or s the place of modern bell below for practical use. Ihe large front room on the right of the entrance hall was once General Washington’s reception room. Mr. Lonefellow used it as a study. On the left is the room used as a drawing-room both in the days of Mrs. Longfellow and of Martha Washington. The 4 house is now owned by Miss Alice Lonefellow, once little Alice, one of the ‘‘blued-eyed banditti” of the poet's lines in ‘‘ The Children’s Hour,’ ’ ‘From my study I see in the lamplight Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.”’ 99 HENRY W. LONGFELLOWHENRY W. LONGFELLOW net OA Ae HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, 1882. BIRTHPLACE, STUDY. RESIDENCE, z Portland, Me. Cambridge, Mass. sa Yel ,Semmes SIT res) LTE PORTO DHE PHOREE IOI The master of the house had long been gone wl 1en it became my privilege to m ake pilerimage to the s spot, but his presence even then was like a living reality, and it seemed every moment as if the white- haired poet must appear on the broad ver randa with the ancient eracious welcome which it was his custom to bestow on visitors. The Open grounds in front on the opposite side of Brattle street have been madea L ongfellow memoria] park, and ceive a broad view of the river Charles where he begins to ‘‘write the | ast letter of his name.” But this is only one of many spots sacred to the memory of the poet whom we scarcely dare call American because the whole English- speaking world has made him theirs as much as he is ours by their love and appreciation, —for everything one learns to love is his own forevermore. A little farther along on Brattle street is the beautiful Mount Auburn cemetery, where our poet rests, not far from the spot where his brother poet Lowell sleeps, and Lowell's baby daughter, the little girl of ‘‘ The First Snowfall,” lies cradled in her ‘Mound in sweet Auburn Where a little headstone stood.’’ If we pursue our Longfellow pilgrimage we must go next to his birthplace in Portland, Maine. We may train, and we choose t gO | upon go by steamer or by yy sea—no: other way to look your first ‘the beautiful town That is seated by the sea,’ now made a shrine forever by the poet’s song in its honor, ‘‘ My ost Youth: < The old square house where he was born is still there, and the brick building, which later became his home, still looks out upon the quiet Casco Bay, guarding the hundreds of green islands of which Longfellow sings— ‘‘And islands that were the Hesperides Of all my boyish dreams.”’ It would be hard to find a more beautiful scene. The Portland of Longfellow’s childhood was a much more lively and thriving town than the present city. Eighty years ago, when Seg ee an eezi) 102 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW :, Longfellow was a boy, Portland Harbor was crowded with ships from many foreign countries, and many strange languages were heard at times in Portland streets; and a boy awake with curiosity might learn many things about the distant world without leaving Casco Bay. Ellon all these busy scenes became a part of the life of the child poet and colored his dreams with visions, we may learn from his lines: ‘¢T remember the black wharves and the ships, And the sea-tides tossing free ; And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, And the beauty and mystery a the ships, And the magic of the sea.’ But we must go for a walk in Deering’s woods, where the poet wandered when a boy. On our way through the quiet Portland streets we come upon a fine monument to his memory, erected in one of the public squares. A little beyond the town we come out upon a fine oak grove— ‘And Deering’s woods are fresh and fair, And with joy that is almost pain My heart goes back to wander there, And among the dreams of the days that were, I find my lost youth again. And the strange and Leautiful song, The groves are repeating it still; \ boy’s will is the wind’s will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.’’ He showed his love for Portland in other ways, for he visited it every year as long as he lived. But there are Longfellow shrines where our poet has never been in the body, for he hada wonderful gift of seeing with his mind, and has described places he has never visited far better than many a tourist who has gone there by rail and tramped all over the grass and carried off bits of everything that could be chipped off or dug up by the roots for souvenirs. We have plenty—and more—of travelers who go from end to end of Nova Scotia every summer and write home what they see. But when we want to get the very breath of I “Acadia,” with its ‘‘forest primeval,” its grassy dykes and sweet 0.) Ke Uaioe Sires 5 iS “axe ] NY ne ied ~ i in. Some one has said, ‘‘ My idea of a university is to sit on one ‘ end of a log with Mark Hopkins at the other.” It must have been like that when Professor Longfellow came in. Edward Everett Hale, the author of ‘‘A Man Without a Country,” and scores of | other charming tales, was one of his students, and still loves to | tell how delightful it was. Mr. Longfellow would read them bal- i lads or other poems in German or Spanish or French or Italian, and they would read them to him again. He was a beautiful reader and they would forget they were in a class room. It seemed as if they were only being entertained, but before they knew how it was done, i they would know the poems by heart. His French was like that of a Parisian, and he spoke all the modern European languages fluently. | € In 1843 he married Miss Appleton. They had five children, all np inick I of whom are still living, Edith, who married Richard Henry Dana, Alice, Annie Allegra, Ernest and Charles. ; et Sc He kept his professorship in Harvard until 1854, when he resigned in order to give himself wholly to literary work. i In 1861 occurred the sad death of his wife. Her clothing caught A fire from a wax taper which she was using to seal a letter. Her hght Hi summer dress was all in flames before help could reach her and she | died in a short time. Mr. Longfellow was badly burned in trying to F save her. He never recovered from the shock of her death. It a made an old man of him. Bi He went to Europe once more and for the last time in 1869, and spent a little more than a year. After that he rarely left home108 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW except to go into Boston, or to Portland for his yearly visit, or to his 7 cottage on the seashore at Nahant, where he spent his summers. . He died in 1882. | Longfellow was always a lover of children, as many of his poems Show, especially ‘‘The Children’s Hour.” The children of Cam- bridge knew and loved their poet friend, and one of the happiest occasions of his later life was on his seventy-second birthday when they presented him with the chestnut arm-chair made from the ‘“‘spreading chestnut tree” which had stood in front of the village smithy in Cambridge, to which Lonefellow referred in ‘‘ The Village Blacksmith.” The old tree, already dying, had to go to make way for the widening of the street, and the children gave the money to build the chair from its wood. It was ornamented with beautiful carvings of horse-chestnut leaves, blossoms and burrs. These lines from the poem were carved around the seat: ‘‘ And children coming home from school Look in at the open door: They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.’’ Below the green leather cushion there is a brass plate with an inscription to the poet from the children. Longfellow seldom wrote a poem for a special occasion, but he wrote one for this, and it was published in the Cambridge Tribune. Iwo stanzas of it are as follows: “Am Ia king, that I should call my own This splendid ebon throne? Or by what reason, or what right divine, Can I proclaim it mine? * * * ‘‘And thus, dear children, have ye made for me This day a jubilee, 2 And to my more than three score years and ten Brought back my youth again.” ia nas a Sod, Ps os rheoeh! ~~ bey = eee af. ay eA er aaeeceniNa Sake hae aa lc nha eee art eee) osu Ce ‘ eaSerer TTT ed Te LHE POET OF THE PEOPLE 109 His last birthday before he died was made Longfellow day in many of the schools throughout the country. There are a number of stories about his kindness to individual children. I should like to tell them all, but have space for only one. | Which shall it be, I wonder ? Mr. Longfellow was once showing a party of ladies and gentle- | men through the historic Craigie house, now quite as much loved for \ its memories of Longfellow as of Washington. All of the company had been introduced to the host with the exception of one little boy, whom his elders seemed to think quite too small to be introduced to so greataman. But Mr. Longfellow did not think so, and he shook | the boy’s hand ‘‘ with a more cordial greeting even than he had given | to the rest of the company.” The boy is a man now, but he still remembers gratefully this act of the kind poet. Another has said. ‘‘He seemed to consider the happiness of the young as something : sacred.” i He had many visitors at Craigie house. He was always kind to strangers, even if they came without letters of introduction. Two i} young ladies from Iowa once visiting in Boston wrote to him telling f him how they loved his poems and how much they wanted to see him. Heanswered the letter immediately, appointing a day for them Q to come to see him. lf A shy young girl was calling one day with a friend. She was so bashtulness and emotion that she could scarcely speak. The poet paid no attention to his other visitors until he had made her feel entirely at home. Some of these visits had their comical side, and Mr. Longfellow could see this as well as another. He used to like to tell a story of i an Englishman who came to see him. ‘‘Is this Mr. Longfellow ?” Ap : overcome with be inquired. ‘‘ Well, sir, as you have no ruins in your country, | thought’’— beginning to stammer, ‘‘I thought I would call and hie > : { see you. Mary Anderson, the actress, published a newspaper article a few years ago in which she recalled the advice given her by Longfellow UT years ago and which she has ever since tried to follow. ‘‘See some Vi good picture,” he-said, ‘‘in Nature if possible, or on canvas, hear a hi page of the best music, or read a great poem daily.” You will always HtHENRY W. LONGFELLOW —" Re eT aan oor peg ee 7 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 5 ae Se aS Metin yon a = .En Somme st a TE PORT: Ok PHP PEOLEE. L1t find a free half hour for one or the other, and at the end of the year your mind will shine with such an accumulation of jewels as to astonish even yourself.” She also repeated a story of an occasion when she attended an opera with him in Boston. He had brought her some flowers and some unknown person had also sent a bouquet to the box for her. She did not pick these up, but continued to hold Mr. Longfellow’s until he insisted upon her doing otherwise. <‘‘Put down my simple ones,” he said, ‘‘and take up those beautiful flowers. It will eratify the giver, who is no doubt in the house; try never to miss an oppor- tunity of giving pleasure. It will make you happier and better.” The words were like himself. But his kindness did not end with kind words. Poor neighbors in Cambridge had him to thank for many a load of coal, and many a boy and girl struggling for an education received aid more costly than encouraging words. A poor girl, a stranger, received, without asking, a check to enable her to go on with her studies. Another, studying music in Italy and just about to come home for lack of money, received from him at Christmas time ‘‘only a little New Year’s gift that would serve to buy gloves,” he said. ‘Did he know,” she asked, ‘‘that 1t was bread, not gloves, I feared I should need and which his generous gift supplied? ” So his kind words and deeds went out to touch human lives with tenderness. Andso his poems went too, the world over, as if they were living things, with their messages of hope and blessing. A classmate of Charles Sumner’s once said, ‘‘I think I may say that Lonegtfellow’s ‘Psalm of Life’ saved me from suicide. I first found it on a scrap of newspaper, in the hands of two Irishwomen, soiled and worn; and I was touched at once by it.” The same poem has been translated into Chinese. The work was done by a Chinese scholar, an admirer of the poet, who had the poem inscribed on a handsome fan in Chinese letters, and sent it to Mr. Longfellow. And an. Englishman has translated it back again into English. This re-translation is very curious. His poems are more widely read to-day than ever. And so, in a very true and high sense we may say that he is more alive to-day than ever before.: Hl I12 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW ti But the best way to know the man is to know his poetry. | will close this sketch by adding one of his poems, which is well worth learning by heart. THE FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY OF AGASSIZ. It was fifty years ago In the pleasant month of May, In the beautiful Pays de Vaud A child in its cradle lay. And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying: ‘‘ Here is a story-book Thy father has written for thee. ' « XN PE We AME! RATE STE 4 DE 4 4 CONFI TO } “4 4 4 CABLE * x NINC q =f FASTI Vv 4 4 STANLE . Y ee YOUN(116 EVEN ROAM SPA INIEE Ve ship was under a terrific fire of shot and shell when young Stanley volunteered to swim out about five hundred yards and fasten a cable to a Confederate steamer. ship was dra ALN at St. Asaph’s, where he was most heartily received. wn over and captured. [SHOUSE BOYS AT DINNER. This he accomplished, and the Southern He was rewarded by being re- leased under prom- ise not to go back to the Confederate army and was some time after madean ensign on the J1- He took an active part conderoga. innavalaffairs from this time on until the end of the war. The next year he went with the Ticonderoga on a trip to Europe and obtained a leave of absence to visit his old home in Wales. His Welsh friends of had heard his callant conduct in the American war and the almshouse boy found himself a person of some GTStinieGtlony bie visited his old almshouse school The boys were given a holiday and Stanley provided them with such a dinner as they had never had before. ~ n sea = eile ak ee Sa aS Be el had aha a + SRA BASA SY) Ay Perhaps he remembered the good din- ners he never had when he was a boy at St. Asaph’s. he is said to have made them one of his finest speeches. After dinner All this, te Li ee rieert pone aS EE PY) ¥ ‘ =THE APRICAN EXPEORER: TT7 1c doubt, left their hearts swelling with pride and pleasure at his kindness and the thought of the honors which had come to one of : their own. He was ashamed of his 1C1 : Te was not ashamed of his humble origin and we can not help admiring his frank loyalty to his humble friends rai ) 4 o. t / ~ . . eile ca TATA trac : e - At this time th« lurks were treating the people of the island of | Crete in the Meditérranean much as they have been treating the | . . o = 5 Armenians during the past tew years. The blood of Stanley was | stirred and he decided to go and help the Cretans throw off the | tT, STANLEY BEING ROBBED. h fp Turkish yoke. He obtained a commission from James Gordon i Bennett. Editor of the Mew York Herald, to travel in the East as t special correspondent. He went to Crete, but was disappointed in the Cretans and would not remain with them. He traveled on into Ih Asia, where he was robbed by Turkish brigands and came near (i losing his life. He returned to America, but not to remain. In 1868 he went i! with the English army into eastern Africa, again traveling as cor- h respondent of the Mew York Herald for the purpose of reporting the | i English war in Abyssinia. When King Theodore of Abyssinia was VtTWO re ) ae ibe es renee , 118 HENRY M. STANLEY killed and the war ended, Stanley sent the news to the London papers so promptly that it arrived before the government dispatches. This was a triumph which gave him name and fame at once, for it was thought remarkable that a young American newspaper man should get ahead of the English government. His letters to the Herald%re considered the best history yet written of the Abyssin- jan war. Mr. Bennett was so much pleased with his success in Africa that he next sent him to get news in Spain, where a civil war was in progress. Stanley was not afraid to go into the most dangerous places in pursuit of information. He obtained not only the latest news, but the most reliable. He made himself so trusted by James Gordon Bennett that he would have Stanley and no one else to lead the next great exploring expedition. This was the opportunity of his life and opened the highway on which he has traveled to fame and honor. ‘‘ That was just his luck,” I hear some one at my elbow muttering. And that reminds me of what I forgot to say on the very first page, and that is that I want you in reading this book to notice what a company of ‘‘lucky” men:and women we have crowded together here between two covers, and then see if you can find any reason for the ‘‘luck” that has attended them, or whether it all slid down the rainbow like the famous pot of gold, which everybody is looking for and nobody has ever yet found. For if good fortune waits on lazy John just as persistently as on plucky Tom, why then it is high time we all found it out. Africa has been the dreamland of the ages. Three great African mysteries haunted the ancients with superstitious reverence and have challenged the moderns to exploration and discovery,—the sources of the Nile, the Niger and the Congo. The Nile, the sacred river of Egypt, flowed for fifteen hundred miles through a rainless land, yet its mysterious sources never failed to send down with its turbid waves the fertility that made old Egypt a cradle of civilization. he ‘‘green ribbon ina desert ” was literally tiem cat) on tne Niles reverent people who owed to it their very existence. The cataracts It is not strange that it was worshiped by a made its navigation in upper Egypt impossible and guarded the mystery well. The Sahara, with its boiling heat and blinding sands, A ee ee ERY ince, 5 a eet De ete ip ee nih as en ee bo 2m ‘i yaTHE AFRICAN EXPLORER. II9Q kept the secret of the sources of the Niger, and the Falls of the Congo, a hundred and twenty miles from its mouth, prevented the ascent of that river. It has been within our own century that all these mysteries have been solved and the sources of the three rivers have beea discovered, very near together in the highlands of the interior. At the end of the last and the beginning of the present century, the Scotch traveler, Mungo Park, tempted and met danger and death on the Niger. He wrote some delightful descriptions of the natives but did not live to accomplish his great purpose and find the beginnings of the Niger. He never came back from his last trip and no one knows his fate. Speke and Burton, Baker and Gordon and Livingstone continued the explorations so well begun. The Niger was the first to yield up its secret, but the final triumph, the settling beyond dispute the question of the sources of the two great rivers, the Nile and the Congo, was left to the subject of this sketch. Stanley's next great expedition was a journey into Africa. David Livingstone had started with thirty-eight men to march into the interior of the Dark Continent in 1866, for the purpose of solving the mystery of the sources of the Nile and ‘exploring and mapping the great lakes of Central Africa. He had already spent thirty years of his life in African exploration. No direct news had been heard from him for many months. During that time the report reached Eng- land that he had been murdered on the shores of Lake Nyassa, but the story was found to be false. Again he was reported to be deserted by his men and dying of starvation and exposure. There was great anxiety about his safety both in England and America. Everywhere people were earnestly asking the question, ‘‘Is Living- stone alive or dead?” Great credit would fall to the newspaper which should be the first to publish news of the great explorer. James Gordon Bennett, the editor of the Vew Vork Herald, was the enter- prising man who undertook an expedition for such a purpose, and Henry M. Stanley was the man whom he chose to direct it. Stanley was sitting in his room in his hotel in Madrid, Spain, when a telegram from the younger Bennett, son of the editor, was handed him. It read, ‘‘ Come to Paris on important business.” At z t : To xa + Ia ric three o'clock that afternoon the young man was on his way to Paris ee ac SEER ome BE cage ane atetass Saran Sa eyes ; Y 120 JESDINIRSE Why SSITBUMEIZ, NC without the slightest idea of the nature of the business which was calling him there. He arrived at Paris the next night and went directly to Mr. Bennett’s hotel and knocked at his door. The con- versation that followed was so characteristic of both young men, and shows so well the spirit by which they were actuated, that I will give Mr. Stanley’s own account of it: “<«Come in!’ I heard a voice say. Entering, I found Mr. Bennett in bed. «<) > s~ pears a Sy vi ~~ _ 5 we ee aes ATT - 2 | Pwr Ae Se iene tenes ped ate ae x sebrests bi are an 7} bsAFRICAN EXPLORER. i | i ae ee ; (ees . malk , egg) o Eee aS | f SS i Hi [ ; ' S = yA Pa eee - GO? & ‘ a eee FT nace fale ie OS po Ee *t, © t i a Q j Ce r \ x a ~ | x 9 ~®& | = ~ PREPARING FOR A FEAST. He returned to England in 1877, but there was still work for him in Africa. He was called to take a prominent part in the found-" i cama aie ’ i 126 HENRY M. STANLEY ing of the Congo Free State. This enterprise was planned by an association of persons from Belgium, Great Britain and France, for the purpose of extending commerce, developing the rich basin of the Congo, and breaking up the slave trade. The jealousies of the different nationalities made the task a difficult one, and it required ten years more of Stanley’s life to place the undertaking on a firm basis. In 1887, after a few months’ rest in England, he returned once more to Africa to the rescue of Emin Pasha, Governor of Equatorial Africa, who had been cut off from the protection of Egypt by a rebellion in the Soudan. He conducted the Pasha and his followers safely across to the eastern shore, at the same time adding consider- ably to his own knowledge of Central Africa. On his next return to England he received a royal* welcome. This plain man, whose entire school education had been received in an almshouse school, was given a degree by the University of Oxford. He received high honors in several of the principal cities of England and was appointed governor of the Congo Free State, which he had helped to found. In 1889 he married Miss Dorothy Tennant, a Welsh lady some- what distinguished as an artist. ~The marriage ceremony was per- formed in Westminster Abbey. Stanley made a lecture tour of the United States in 1889. Since 1890 he has lived quietly in England, engaged chiefly in literary pursuits. He was elected to Parliament in 1895. Stanley’s black followers in Central Africa appreciated the force of his character enough to call him ‘‘ The Rock Breaker.” A para- eraph which he wrote to the Mew York Herald at the close of his expedition in behalf of Emin Pasha might refer to his entire life, as well as to the single enterprise. He said: ‘‘The vulgar will call it luck. Unbelievers will call it chance, but deep down in each heart remains the feeling, that of verity there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in common philosophy.” Te ce neeae SR REE RES Pe costs | id ca ee eee | eee coral has re Dy, i Soy a oe 2 coal ane gp a ae) errsthss sh PSP Sa Ty am —s } es aROSA BONHEUR THE PAINTER OF ANIMALS | He prayeth welt who. loveth well Both man, and bird, and beast. Coleridge. BOSSA BONHEUR., as a child, was a problem to irents and teachers dé ere f ke. She loved to nS romp and she hated tostudy. She | Dp. ali was too active and impulsive to take kindly to the restraints of the i schoolroom. It took her a long time to learn to read and write. Her grandfather used to say to her mother, ‘‘ You think you have a daughter! What a mistake! Rosa is a boy in petticoats |” i She was a child of nature and loved the woods and fields. Her | grandfather had a pet parrot who used to imitate her mother’s voice e in calling ‘‘Rosa!” and when Rosa would answer the call, her mother would detain her to learn her catechism. It is needless to 27 127/ V7 ee a < , = ee ae; zee manana Lae ry ba Sele cere een Hi : ag 128 PhsA BONHEUR 1e parrot was not one of her favor- say that, though Rosa loved pets, tl Her father, Raymond Bon- ites. She came of a family of artists. heur, was a gifted portrait and landscape painter. talent and carried off high honors in his youth, but worked at his art When a young man, he was obliged to He showed great under great discouragement. devote a large part of his time to eiving lessons 1 his feeble and aged parents. He became attached to one of his pupils, a charming oirl named Sophie Marquis. fter they were married gave the couple no assist- n order to support Her family opposed the marriage and a ance. Lhe young artist was compelled to continue his lessons to the neglect of his painting. It is Rosa's belief that his poverty lost an artist of great ability to the world. Rosalie Bonheur, or Rosa, as she prefers to be called, was born ‘n Bordeaux, France, in 1822. She was the oldest of four children. Of these the elder of her two brothers, Auguste, became distinguished as a painter of portraits and animals. He died in 1884. He had exhibited numerous paintings in the Paris salons and received the 8 His most distinguished works cross of the Legion of Honor in 1567. are <‘A Herd of Cows” and ‘‘ Before the Rain.” The younger, Isidore, isa sculptor of animals. His best known piece of sculpture is the ‘¢Tioer Hunter. The youngest of the four, Juliette, married Monsieur Peyrol. She is alsoa painter of animals. She has a studio over her husband's bronze exhibition rooms and always signs herself ‘‘éleve de son péere,” pupil of her father. She has two sons who possess the family talent in a large measure. When Rosa was about four years old, the family removed from 30rdeaux to Paris. There for some years they lived through trying times. The tyrannical measures of the king, Charles X., maddened the excitable French people and brought on the Revolution of July, 1830, by which Charles was deposed and Louis Phillippe was placed on the throne. It was no time for interest in art or the sale of pic- tures. Raymond Bonheur was obliged again to devote himself to teaching, and even then could scarcely gain a living for his family, though the mother was thrifty and assisted by giving lessons on the piano and by sewing. Rosa was fond of lingering in her father’s studio and loved to cut out curious paper figures and try modeling in clay. iq ate a oe Scud rae ee amet Cat ee ee ae ik , hime \\! ad De ae Sa ~ pT een en reat’ a . V9 heel Seale eee eee eT S Ste J mir} ea eae are Spam | THE PAINTER OF ANIMALS. 129 She was intensely fond of animals. When she was about seven years old she used to run away to a pork shop in the neighborhood to see a wild boar’s head, frightfully carved in wood, which did duty as a sign. Whenever she was missed from home, the mother would send to the pork shop, and there Rosa was sure to be found, gazing enraptured at the boar’s head with its rude carving and gaudy paint- ing. She is said to have revisited the place a few years ago. The carving and the paint were still there, but the charm, alas, had vanished. When Rosa was eleven years old, her mother died. This, she says, was the greatest sorrow of her life. She and her two brothers were then entrusted to the care of a well-meaning woman called La Mére Cathérine, with whom they remained for two years, while little Juliette remained in charge of some old family friends. During this time, Rosa was supposed to be sent to school. She was actually in the fields most of the time, for it was in an open part of the city. She says herself that she never spent an hour of fine weather indoors during the whole time. La Mére Cathérine seems to have been a good-hearted woman without much sense, who com- plained of the little hoyden and scolded her but could not find any way to influence her except in the opposite direction from that which the good woman desired. It was about this time that she first saw a little pale faced girl wearing a green shade over her eyes and a comical bonnet, which aroused the mirth of the fun- loving Rosa. The little girl was Nathalie Micas, afterwards her dearest and most intimate friend. She, too, becamean artist, and her death in 1889 was a blow from which Rosa was long in recovering. At the end of two years, the father was married again to a bright, intelligent woman, and the children were brought together under the home roof. The boys, however, were soon placed at school, where their father made arrangements to pay their way by giving drawing lessons. There were no free schools then in Paris as there are with us, and the children of the poor had small chance for education. Rosa had made so poor use of her opportunities in school that her father thought it quite useless to go toany further expense for her instruction. But it was necessary she should learn some means ot\ a i A Cea | as wih Fath A Anes , laa hia ee ae Ui 130 ROSA BONHEUR supporting herself and she was given in charge of a seamstress to be taught sewing. This was even worse than school. She pricked her fingers and ht on headaches with her petulance over having to sit still and broug The seamstress’s husband had a turning- do the disagreeable work. lathe in the next room. Rosa liked to help use the machine, and sometimes got into mischief by trying to manage it by herself when the man was away. This was almost her only pleasure, and when her father came to see her she would throw herself into his arms, and, sobbing as if to break her heart, would beg him to take her away from the hateful place. She made herself almost ill with her rebellion and continual fretting. She was born with the soul of an artist. It was not right for her to spend her life in sewing, and she was trying to find the path that Nature had designed for her. She did not know what this path was, nor how to reach it, and so the poor child fell upon a very disagreeable way of managing matters. Her way succeeded in the end, but it was uncomfortable for everybody concerned while it lasted. But we will not find too much fault with her, for it is barely possible we should not know just what to advise her if she had it all to do over again. I suppose a really wise person, such as you often meet, one who knows exactly what other people ought to do every time the clock strikes, would understand a case like this at once and would probably have told Mademoiselle Rosa to dry her tears and take up her hemming, even while her soul was starving for her beloved woodland ways and the wild, fresh lie of Nature, and certainly that looks like the reasonable thing and would have saved a vast deal of trouble. But what, meantime, would have become of the artist ? Would Rosa Bonheur have been lost to the world ? I am very far from saying that she did right. J am rather sure she did wrong. But all this goes to show that questions, even of common morality, are not always so simple as they at first might appear. It takes head as well as heart to know how to behave one- self and how to settle some of the commonest questions of everyday life. And this, to my thinking, is one reason for cultivating our minds and trying to be wise as well as good. It was Charles Kingsley, the author of ‘‘ Water Babies,” which, by the way, is one of the best " i Wane neRAE be caoh oe he te eee cee ee 2 ee = i ee Lirica tinegh: » pik) ? 1 i \\ Sea a eo a ST sips i a : — i aySatie ne naenemnenn 10 THE PAINTER OF ANIMALS. nat books I know for children of all ages from seven to seventy, who wrote the beautiful verse— ‘“ Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever Do noble things, not dream them all day long, And so make life, death, and that vas/ forever, One grand, sweet song.’ I love to repeat the stanza, but I always wonder if he was altogether right. Rosa’s father could not bear to leave her ina place where she was so wretched, and he took her away. This time he placed her in a boarding school. Here the spirit of mischief made her a leader among her mates. Many stories are told of the pranks she used to play. She liked to draw caricatures of the teachers. These she would cut out of the paper on which they were drawn and stick the heads to the ceiling by means of bread which she chewed until it became a paste. It may be imagined that these swaying paper figures were not favorable to study among the girls, and Mademoiselle Rosa was frequently punished by being kept on bread and water. Besides the punishments which she so often underwent and the frequent disgrace brought upon her by her madcap ways, she had another source of trouble in this school. She was a poor girl among rich ones. Her clothing was coarse and scanty, while they were dressed in silks. They had silver spoons while she used an iron one. This difference in position was galling to the high-spirited and sensi- tive girl. She was very unhappy. But this was not to last long, for one day a sham battle took place, in which Rosa was commander-in-chief. The small army rushed over the garden-beds spreading devastation as they went, and the commander’s wooden sword bravely slashed down the enemy in the form of rose-bushes. This was too much for the preceptress, and the ‘‘ Little Hussar,” as she was called, was sent home to her father. This time he was completely discouraged and left her to do as she pleased, the very wisest course, as she soon proved. She began drawing and modeling in her father’s studio, at first for her own amusement. She became interested, and the ereat soul of the artist began to dawn within her. From an impulsive, headstrong girl sheeats 132 ROSA BONHEUR dev eloped rapidly into a woman of earnestness and determination. She would work from dawn to dark, sometimes forge tting to eat. Rosa’s father began to understand her. He commence -d seriously to give her lessons. He was the only teacher in art she ever had. These were happy days. It was a pleasant family picture, the father, the two sons and this delicate, fine-featured daughter, all working together so happily and hopefully. Rosa would sing at her easel from morning until night. She h ct entered upon a new life. After completing a thorough course under the instruction of her father, she began to go daily to the Louvre, a famous art gallery in Paris where a great number of the finest p: aintings in the world are collected. She would take her easel and sit copying from the old masters until she would forget the world around her. She began to earn money from the sale of her pictures, and so became a useful member of the family. An incident occurred at the Louvre one day which may have been the first suggestion to her of a future different from that of others. She was copying a celebrated painting called Les Bergers ad’ Avcadic—Shepherds of Arcadia- -when an old gentleman was attracted to look at her work. He gazed at it long and earnestly, then left her with the prophecy, ‘‘ Your copy, 707 Lyfe: is superb, faultless! Persevere as you have begun, and I prophesy that you will be a great artist!” No one knows how much these few encouraging words may have had to do with the making of a destiny. When Mademoiselle Rosa was about seventeen years old, she painted a goat. This gave her so much delight that she began to give her entire attention to the painting of animals. Her love of pets began to show itself more than ever. The Bonheur family were then living on the sixth floor, where there was not much oppestunity for keeping animals. But Rosa had a pet sheep which she and her brothers used as a model, and of which she was very fond. This she managed to keep for some time in her sixth floor residence. It was not a mountain sheep and was not skilled in climbing stairs. Conse- quently her brother Isidore used to carry it down on his back nearly every day and give it exercise and fresh grass. As the sheep grew to be too large for carrying, it is related that he made a pair of mittens for its hind feet to prevent the noise of its hoofs from disturbing the“$i f W203 JESUENITLIR Ove ANIMALS. 132 neighbors. He would fasten on the mittens and lead the animal by its tore teet, requiring it to learn the difficult art—for a sheep—of climbing stairs with half its usual facilities for walking on level ground One day the poor sheep fell over the balustrade and through an open The family had mutton for Se ee cane NERS = per oT oar ; oe i Ce re en a id ee St Oe pee Y } ‘ Li 3 a \\ De . Rea Sane sm meme 20) e Sirs aver PAE SNTHE PAINTER OF ANIMALS. 135 of the freedom it gave her for drawing and modeling. She was busy a year anda half in making the studies for this ereat picture. The original painting is now in New York. There is a copy, made by the artist herself, in London. Ktosa Bonheur had four paintings on exhibition at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893. One of these was a picture of a flock of sheep, quietly feeding on the scanty grass ina rocky pasture. It was loaned by General Russell A. Alger of Detroit. Another belonged to the Jay Gould estate. A third was called ‘‘ The Over- THE OVERTHROW—EXHIBITED AT’ WORLD FAIR. throw,” and represented some young bullocks on a stampede of the craziest description. In their haste they had upset some sheep, which were painted with much spirit, and seemed to share in the evident opinion of the bullocks that the end of the world was at hand. But the most striking of the four was ‘‘ The King of the Forest.” This was a splendid buck with branching horns and wide-open startled eyes, gazing anxiously, as if he suspected his kingdom was in danger. It was a superb picture, and was seldom left without an admiring crowd. re le eneROSA BONHEUR 136 Rosa Bonheur has lived for many years in the quiet little village of By in the . forest of. Fontainebleau. Her house isa modest bric hvac: xh wall ar ie ‘e shall be fortunate in It has a high wall around it and we sh ull be forte it we have a letter of introduction to { mansion. our visit to this part of France if I give us admittance to the gate. The ring of the bell will be answered first by the barking of a company of dogs of all sorts and conditi ions. The eagle will scream out a doubtful welcome, and a parrot will do hi noisy best to repel invasion. A white-capped 1 maid will admit us a some caution. Achamois from the Alps is feeding ina wire enclosure. ‘thene 1s a park not far away for sheep and deer. ia lie es $e fm, a aa THE HORSE FAIR. A writer in the Century a few years ago, who was happy enough to gain admittance to the hee of the artist, found the mistress of the abode on the grounds near the gate. A sheep was undergoing the process of shearing as a study for the artist, who wore her cus- tomary blue blouse with a white collar fastened with one pearl button. Pantaloons completed the costume. Her features were described delicate and clearly cut. Her gray hair was short and parted at the side. Her eyes were still superbly black. She changed her costume before dinner, donning a velvet jacket with a touch of white at the throat, anda rather short and perfectly plain skirt. She never makes any compromises to fashion. Life is too short for that. Beds Pik ys 3 os ¥ Php de, Te Bate Ch Sik tit ao at te Ne Da Renae SARIS PRERA)) My a = =a ves sas east reate Rg OT Semmmmeme VTL) S037 t M TTTE, PAINE RR OF INIMALS. 1 2Y, Ji Her favorite and usually her only ornament is the cross of the legion of Honor, which was bestowed on her ina very curlous man- ner. She was declared worthy r of this decoration, but the eallant EK mperor Napoleon was afraid Go bestow it because it had never vet been given toa woman. But in 1865 he left the country for a time in charge of the Empress Eugénie as Regent. The Empress one day drove over to the village of By and alighted in the courtyard of the artist. ‘‘ Mademoiselle ! mademoiselle!” cried the maid, ‘‘ Her Majesty, the Empress!” Mademoiselle threw a skirt over her trousers and slipped on a velvet jacket just in time to greet her royal visitor. ‘‘I have here,” the Empress said, ‘a little jewel which I bring you on the part of the Emperor, who authorized me to avail myself of the last d: iy of my Regenc y to announce to you your nom- ination to the Legion of Honor.” She then pinned the ribbon of the cross to the velvet jacket of the artist, Imprinted a kiss upon her cheek and was gone. The wife of the grocer near by gives a piquant account of the dash made by the Prussian soldiers into this region in 1870 A tew of them came to Champagne, just across the river from By. The grocer and a few others had een out their shoteuns, Kosa, who is a fine hunter, appeared with hers. there?” she asked. when ‘How many are ‘Oh, if there are only three or four we can take care of them.” The next daya larger force came, but the command- ing officer gave orders that the property of the artist should not be disturbed. She is still as fond of animals as ever. Her home has always been an ‘‘asylum for stray dogs.” The deer in the park rub their noses against, her as she passes, and ask in their way to be caressed. ‘“In order to make oneself loved by wild anim: oe she says, ‘““we must love them.” She has no fear of the wildest. She once had a erown lioness as a model and friend. The death of the lioness has been thus touchingly described: ‘‘When a big lioness died in the arms of the painter, at the foot of the staircase of By, the creatures’s tongue, rough as a rasp, feebly licked, and the huge claws closely held, through the death agony, the kind hands of her she loved— these last caresses seeming to say, ‘Do not abandon me!’” The artist 1s much respected and loved by the peasants of hera) a ROSA BONHEUR. os by the cultured lovers of art the world over. The peasants are proud to bring her a sheep or a goat from their barn- yards, and if she has painted one of their eifts, or, better still, one of their children, they will tell it for the rest of their lives with wonder village as well as and reverence—and this simple affection 1s to her no small part ot the world’s love for the modest unassuming woman who by severe toil and determination and the force of her genius, has taken high rank among the world’s great artists. mull nl ” sic Sethi 4 att MIE T ys Vis slobea-eiae een ah) ) eo cw ena) ee J, a Is 3 s 2 es 2 ~— a Eb a hy ees Nl ALATA Trays 20 AT x Ba es PET 2 ' : vo 2 SG SAY Ware AUIS ea a eo + eer er, riearsh - U A och ios aie cee tee seen aire sorst ei oeBN moa ; . Pe iseee rst TT PATRICK HENRY THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA { know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death! —Fatrick Henry. ATRICK HENRY was four years younger. than Washing- ton, having been born in 1736, 1n the county of Hanover, Virginia. At the time he received the name of Patrick, there was some reason to suppose that the name might be honored by such bestowal, for he had a right to the gift of brains from the families of both father and mother. His father, John Henry, was a sturdy Scotchman of sound intellect, high character and good education. Several of his relatives were men of eminence in the old world. Among them was the English orator, Lord Brougham, who was his second cousin. Patrick’s mother came of a fine old Welsh family named Winston. They are said to have been fond of music and eloquence, gifted in conversation and disposed to be dramatic. What more could an orator ask in the way of inheritance? But it was some time before he discovered his gift. And it seemed for a number of years as if it was likely to be something quite different from credit which the young Virginian was destined to shed upon his honored name. It was easy for a boy to escape an education in Virginia in those days, if escape was what he was bent on. There were few schools and no truant officers abroad in the land. People who could afford it and wished it had tutors in their homes for their children. ‘There was, however, a small school in the neighborhood of the Henry home. This Patrick attended for some time, but managed very skillfully to 139‘| 140 PAWRUGKE TILA RY protect his mind from such unskillful instruction as was given. When a | he was ten vears old a home school was established and Patrick was taught, with a number of other children, by his father and uncle, the I Reverend Patrick Henry. Here he made considerable progress in PATRICK HENRY. mathematics and did something in Latin and Greek,—how much is quite uncertain. There has been considerable dispute about the amount and to Thomas Jefferson, he was very o quality of his learning. According ignorant. B - sut we learn from others that he knew Latin well enough fi; to carry on a conversation in that lancuage.- We know, too, that he : whe RY arr rea 2 ea ati nen coma laa THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA. IAI was fond of reading and preferred good books. His speeches showed great command of language as well as of facts. If he accomplished as little in school as some authorities would have us believe, he must have made up for it by severe study in his later life. At the age of fifteen he had learned either so much or so little that it was thought unnecessary for him to attend school longer, and he went into business as a salesman in a country store. At the end of a year, his father set him up in a store with his elder brother, a lad rather more idle and fond of fishing than himself. Another year was enough to bring that venture to an end. He next seems to have rested a’ year, and at eighteen he was married, though without money or prospects. The bride’s name was Sarah Shelton. The outlook was a dismal one in the eyes of every- body except the young people themselves. But the parents of both interfered to ward off starvation and endowed them with a farm and five or six slaves. Now why should a young man work who had so magnificent an establishment? Or why make his head ache with accounts and man- aging? But the slaves ate up everything they could raise and Pat- rick was as poor with his farm as he had been without it. Whena man is out of money, something must be sold, and Patrick Henry sold his farm that supported the slaves and the slaves that lived oft the farm. He was then as well off as he was before and had a little money beside. This he invested in a store, perhaps thinking that his agricultural experience had given him an added fitness for mercantile pursuits. It took him three years to become a bankrupt. His store was then shut up for him, saving him the trouble of open- ing it in the morning and keeping the flies off the sugar barrel and closing the store at night. He next decided to become a lawyer. Certainly his example up to this time would not be a very ood one for a young man to imitate. But we know that from this time on he took up the business of living in earnest; and perhaps his mind had been more active than any one knew during those apparently idle years. He was groping in the dark, but eroping towards the light. During those seemingly fruitless years, he had at least learned to take an interest in some of the best things in literature. He began with light reading, but by degrees became interested in history,142 PATRICK HENR especially that of Greece and Rome. He made it a rule to read Livy’s histories through once a year, using an English translation. He also became thoroughly familiar with English and American history. Among all books, his favorite was the Bible He had the excellent habit of reading a few good books thoroughly. His mind grasped readily the important things in a narrative or an aroument. He knew human nature well enough to indicate that he had been watching and thinking while he had apparently been loafing in the store or tavern and gossiping with his neighbors. He was sympathetic and had an irresistible tund of humor and pathos at his command. And hehadacontagious enthusiasm. All these qualities united to make him a prince among lawyers and the greatest of American orators. Having once entered upon the study of the law, he was not long in preparing for his legal examination. Some writers say he studied nine months, while others say six weeks. He says himself that he spent one month in reading the laws of Virginia and Coke upon Lit- tleton, and then went to Williamsburg to take his examination. There were four examiners. Two of them refused his application at first, one without examination, on the ground of his awkward and ungainly appearance. They reconsidered the matter, however, after consulting with the others, and signed his license to practice law on the ground that he had a good mind and could and probably would make himself familiar with the law, although in their opinion he had not done so already. During the test, one of the examiners engaged him in an argument and he defended his opinion so well that his opponent yielded him the victory, saying: ‘‘Mr. Henry, if your industry be only half equal to your genes. [I augur that you will do well, and become an ornament and an honor to your profession.” There has arisen a tradition that Patr ei Henry was ‘‘ originally a bar-keeper, or, as a recent writer has said, that for three years after receiving his license he ‘‘ tended travelers and drew corks.” The origin of this story was probably the fact that for two or three years about this time he lived with his father-in-law, who kept a tavern in Hanover county, and, being of an obliging disposition, he was always cuests. He was oO 1g oD ready to lend a hand in welcoming or entertain popular among his old neighbors, and his account books, which have Se - aes fp AK ‘. ‘ TREE nth Si a S irr bid be hvac REMOTE Dat es Deca tae Cn eat tee = Sr ce BL \ aes 7 ae oSae emg TT yeti | THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA. 142 been preserved, show that he had plenty of employment from the very beginning of his law caréer. The books show also that he now began to pay inmoney the many favors which he had received from his father-in-law. When Mr. Henry had been practicing law for about four years, he took a case which, with others of its kind, became celebrated in history and is known as ‘‘ The Parson’s Cause.” The church of England was at that time the established church of Virginia and the ministers were paid by the taxpayers. Before this time the law had been that they should receive their salaries in a certain number of pounds of tobacco each year instead of money. This was generally satisfactory, as tobacco brought a good price and found ready sale. But in 1758 there was less tobacco raised than usual, and the colony of Virginia passed a law requiring the ministers to accept in payment for their services the Virginia paper money, which was not good for much at home and could not be used at all in England. As the amount to be paid in money was worth only about a third as much as the tobacco they had been receiving, the poor preachers were left ina bad way. It was an outrageous fraud. The county of Hanover, to its credit, let it be said, declared the act unlawful. It then remained for the parsons to sue for damages. One of the first to do this was the Reverend James Maury. I am sorry to say that in this case as in a number of others brought up later, Patrick Henry was the counsel on the side of injustice. He began his speech very awkwardly, but, warming up to™the occasion, he soon had the jury and the entire audience under the most per- fect control. According to the law, the jury was obliged to bring in a verdict for damages, but acting under the wonderful influence of the orator, they fixed the damages at one cent. The people, many of whom had sided with the parsons before the speech, were now enthusiastically on. the side of Henry. Ihey cheered until they were hoarse. They crowded around him, and, lifting him up on their shoulders, carried him out of the house and around the yard in triumph, and his father, who was present, wept for pure Joy. Other cases of the same kind were immediately put into his hands, and he gained rapidly in fame and patronage. From that a Sia nme eS eT Sanei. T44 PATRICK HENRY time he took his place as the first orator in Virginia. He seems to «oe have been a little ashamed of his course, for he 1s known to have apologized for it to his minister uncle and others. It isa pity he did ie not offer a better apology by refusing to take the case. The tempta- tion of popularity and large fees overcame him in this case. but as we shall see, he was generally and often nobly on the side of right and justice. In May, 1765, Patrick Henry was elected a member of the Vir- -. ginia legislature. It was a notable year and gave our young orator the first of a long series of opportunities to use the power that was in him in dealing with public questions of the greatest importance. It was the year of the passage of the Stamp Act, the beginning of the ‘‘ taxation without representation,” which ended in the Revolu- tionary War and the independence of the colonies. When the news arrived that the Stamp Act had become a law, the Virginia legislature was paralyzed, and although the feeling against it was intense, none of the older leaders were ready to take u action. They were cautious and too much atraid of consequences to speak out boldly. Imagine, then, their consternation when this ill-dressed, awk- 7 ward young backwoodsman of twenty-nine years, without reputation | or experience in public matters, arose and read a series of resolutions which declared plainly that no one had a right to tax the colony but the colonists themselves. He had waited until he found that none of y | the older members would take a bold stand, and then he hurriedly E - scratched off his resolutions on a blank leaf of an old law book. And after reading the resolutions he delivered one of the most famous and dramatic of his speeches. ? In it occurred the passage now so familiar to every one: ‘‘ Czsar y had his Brutus; Charles the First his Cromwell; and George the | Third —the speaker was interrupted by cries of ‘‘ Treason ! trea- son! He waited calmly until the cries ceased, then continued defiantly — ‘‘and George the Third may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it.” The speaker's ‘torrents of eloguence”’ carried the house by storm. The resolutions were passed, though with some omissions. It was near the end of the session and Patrick Henrv’s work was Sohih ba belek ater eae MERE aay hack eee Le os Se ee iat aS aera Sis 4 a oy Y b etait it scclanvadaaa — . ESET ie pee 2 ile beers ee ees) ae Sara ria a aE eee SY) 5 oe he——" Seema ts ae THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA. 145 done. He started home wearing a pair of buckskin trousers and riding a poor, lean horse which appeared as much a backwoodsman as himself. In a single speech Mr. Henry had proved himself the ereatest orator and one of the greatest statesmen in Virginia. And, what is of greater consequence, he had done something to change the course of history. He had kindled a little fame which spread from colony to colony and was not to be extinguished until America should become a nation. To be sure, this movement would have started somewhere if it had not started with Patrick Henry in Virginia. And it must be said that the New England colonies were at the same time taking energetic action in regard to the hated law. But ‘‘the publication of the Virginia resolves proved an alarm bell” to inspire with courage many who before were weak and halting. For the next nine years Patrick Henry devoted himself steadily to law and politics. His practice was now removed from the county to the general court. It was very large and was generally made up of the most important cases in the colony, but fell off during the latter part of the nine years, when the colonists were forgetting their own private grievances in the stirring affairs of the colonies. He had been growing prosperous as well as famous, and. soon after he made his notable speech in the Virginia legislature he bought an estate called Roundabout, in Louisa county, which he made the home of his family for several years. In 1771 he bought a country place called Scotchtown in his own county of Hanover, where he remained until Virginia became a state and he was elected its first covernor. In 1774, Patrick Henry was a delegate to the first Continental Congress, which met at Philadelphia to discuss the tyranny of George III., and consider how to meet it. It fell to him to make one of the opening speeches. It was calm, business-like and fair-minded. He seems to have been one of the first, if not the very first, to see that the only way out of slavery was by war. And what he saw he had a tremendous power to make others see. Before the close of this convention-he was known as the first orator in America. But it was in a Virginia convention in 1775 that he made theSt) ike fan) is edible i es ae Se i Nr 146 PAR GEE Tell DINTYA + sreatest speech of his life: The closing passages were as follows, and produced the most intense excitement: ‘Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will ihe battle, sin is not to There is 2 raise up friends to fight our battles for us. 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 1 now too late to retire from the contest. Our chains are forged. The war is inevitable. There is no retreat but 1:1 Their clanking And submission and slavery. may be heard on the plains of Boston. let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come! ir, to extenuate the matter. The war is actually begun. ‘It is im vain, SIT, Gentlemen may cry peace, peace, but there is no peace. 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? chased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! The next gale that sweeps Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be pur- me, give me 4. o { ~ but aS [Ol 9 I know not what course others may take, liberty, or give me death! ” But it was not merely his words, great as they were, that affected When he as to be his listeners so powerfully. His delivery was wonderful. came to the words, ‘‘Is life so dear or peace so sweet, purchased at the price of chains and liberty °” he stood bent over, “like a condemned galley slave loaded with fetters, awaiting his doom. ” His wrists were crossed as if chained. His hearers could almost see the chains. But at the words, ‘‘ Give me liberty,” his whole appear- ance was changed, his fetters were shivered, and he stood ‘‘ erect and defiant.” ‘¢ death, ” dagger pointed at his heart; while his voice became a dirge, but a And at the word he appeared to be holding a dirge that told the triumph of death. He was rewarded for his services by being made commander of the first soldiers raised in Virginia for the Revolution, but not being promoted to the office of Brigadier-General as he expected, he soon resigned and went home. Just why he was not appreciated in this line of work is not quite clear, though it is thought by many that he had not much military talent. It is quite possible that that is true, Mey Ea ELT - ac eee Sirk bs bettie ee wR BE Bsr De kid del oe 7 s -~ LATS on co ay Tae S rae ; i as) tie 7 a a OC ay RIT eRe BR DS Sena INS Sere Meets Fs oe) ~— uare Spa THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA. LAVA though he had little opportunity during his short career as a soldier to prove what he could do, and he was cert: unly not a coward. He returned to a sad home, for his wife had died but a few months before. He spent a few weeks with his six motherless children before he was called away to other duties, first in another Virginia convention at Williamsburg. And on the fifth of July fol- lowing, the day after independence had been declared in Philadelphia, he was elected the first governor of the state of Virginia, an office which he held for three years. At the end of that time his health was considerably-affected by the cares of his public life. He declined reélection ae retired to a new home, an estate called Leatherwood, which he had recently bought in Henry county, near the Kentucky line. It seemed to be his wish to remain there in quiet, but his rest was interrupted by public business, from which it seemed that he could not escape. He was almost immediately elected a member of the Continental Congress, but he~declined to serve. After a year's rest at Leatherwood he accepted an election to the Virginia legisla- ture and served in that body, whenever the state of his health per- mitted, until after the close of the war. The capital had some time before this been removed from Williamsbure to Richmond, but after the defeat of the Americans in the Carolinas it was thought unsafe for the legislature to remain SO near the enemy. They adjourned to Charlottesville, a safer place among the mountains, and again to Staunton, still farther away from danger. Itis said that when the reverend lawgivers at Charlottes- ville heard that the British General Tarleton was after them, they “stood not upon the order of their going, but went at once, taking first to their horses and then to the woods. A number of interesting stories are told about this rather undig- nified flicsht. Among others, this one will illustrate-both the wrath of the Pie ints over what many of them conside red the cowardice of their legislators, and the high reeard j in which Patrick Henry was held. A small party, including Mr. Henry, stopped at a little cabin.in the woods and asked the old woman who came to the door for some supper. When she asked who they were, the great Virginian orator replied that they were members of the legislature and had been com-\ Sil. = RINT eo cls rae a a = PAGRIC KS HEINER Ye 148 pelled to leave Charlottesville on account of the approach of the Enelnyn 1 Ride on, then, ye cowardly knaves,” she retorted, ‘‘ here have my husband and sons just cone to Charlottesville to fight tor ye, and vou running away with all your m right. Clear out; ye shall have ; » ««But.” said the orator, ‘‘we were ol bliged to fly. nothing here. to be broken up by the enemy. It would not do for the legislature Here is Mr. Speaker Harrison; you don’t think he ee have fled had it not been necessary?” ‘‘I always thought a great deal of Mr. Harrison till now, but he’d no business to run from the enemy,” and she turned to slam the door. ‘‘ Wait a moment, my eood woman, » continued Mr. Henry, ‘‘ you would hardly believe that Mr. Tyler or Colonel Christian would take to flight 1f there were not good cause for so doing?” ‘No, indeed, that | wouldn't,” she answered. ‘‘ But Me davier and Colonel Christian are here.” ““ They here? Well, | Fever would have thoueht it.? She hesitated. “‘No matter,” she went on. ‘‘We love these gentlemen, and I didnt suppose they : - . at : es - would ever run away irom the B nee but since they have, they shall have nothing to eat in my house. You may ride alone.” Then Mr. Ivler came to the rescue. ‘‘ What would you say, my good woman. if I were to tell you that Patrick Henry fled with the rest of us?” ‘Patrick Henry! I should tell you there n a word of truth in it,” was the old womans angry retort. ‘' oie ick Henry would never do such a cowardly thing.” ‘‘ But this is Patr ick Henry,” said 1 Mr. Tyler. This was a hard blow to the loyal old woman. She jerked her apron string a time or two, and then said: “ Well, then, if that’s Patrick Henry, it must be all nght. Come in, and ye shall have the best I have in the house.” It has been rather unkindly suggested that Mr. Henry’s sentiment at the time of this flight must have been, ‘‘ Give me liberty, but not death. © It was an unfortunate circumstance and certainly did not indi- cate much bravery. But we should remember that Patrick Henry had many times risked his life in his bold speeches. It would be quite unfair to judge him by one weak act when he had committed so many brave ones. Besides, the lawgivers could have done no good by remaining in danger. It was quite different from running away in battle It is not often remembered that it was Patrick Henry who made Pr tie SE ee x TDP OR rgy a ae Re ee ea IE ot on Pieris Karis =eo Seamemee tia THE DEMOSTHENES OF AMERICA. 149 the first effectual plea for religious liberty in Virginia. He was him- self a devoted member of the Church of England, which was the established church of Virginia, and which at that time considered unlawful all forms of worship ee its own. He introduced a reso- lution in the Virginia legislature requiring perfect religious freedom to be granted to people of every denomination. This was passed the year of the Declaration of Independence. Another proof of his liberality is found in his attitude toward the tories, the people who had remained loyal to King George during the war. [hey were treated so harshly in some of the colonies that thousands of them left the country and found homes in Nova Scotia and elsewhere. In Virginia the feeling against them ran so high that a bill was passed forbidding the admission of any of them into the x 1 state. Patrick Henry had been stern enough toward them while the war lasted, but now that it was over and we were victorious, he thought we could afford to be generous. He introduced a bill to repeal this law, and, although he was at first alone in advocating it, he at length succeeded in getting it passed. He was also one of the first in Virginia to urge a kindly and generous treatment of the Indians In 1784 he was again elected governor of Virginia. He served for two years and then declined reelection. He had so long neg- lected his own interests in the public service that he had grown very poor. He wanted to provide for his old age and for his children and erandchildren, and in order to do this he again took up the law. His health was delicate but he worked vigorously, and in eight years he was able to retire with a considerable fortune. In 1795 he bought an estate called Red Hill in Charlotte county, where he made his home for the remainder of his it te. dus lastyyears were spent very happily with his family and tfnends. The same year in which he took up his residence at Red Hill, President Washington offered him the position of Secretary of State, but he could not bring himself to give up the quiet of his domestic lite. He also declined a nomination as governor of Virginia in 1796. Inthe spring of 1799, important matters were expected to come before the legislature and he was begged to allow himsclf to be a can- didate. He consented, and, though very weak and infirm, went to ale oe. Ae. a ba is inet seatasmeaanennsiciaee ~— 150 PAPRIGK HENRY house and delivered an address which made a deep He was elected to the legisla- He was taken Charlotte court impression on those who heard him. ture by a large majority, but he never took his seat. ill and died peacefully in June, on of Washington. He was buried on place is still owned by his descendants. ly a few months before the death his estate of Red Hill and the sha - = mS ae AYES 3 ae te ~— —_ Or 3 PAEEA ES om 2 is elas Fi ace beh itree 9 privileges, | have no fear of I can only front of extended popular those enlargements of the constitution that seem to be approaching. On the contrary, I hail them with desire.” He was destined before many years to throw all the weight of his splendid intellect and all the force of his giant character into the other side of the scale He graduated with the highest honors in 1531 and went to Italy expecting to spend some time in study and travel, but was called ace in the course of a few months at the invitation of the Duke of New- castle, to become a candidate for the House of Commons. In England the election of members is managed quite differe ntly from the way it is done in our Congressional elections. In the first place, a candidate need not be elected by the district in which he happens to live, but may be sent by any community that is entitled toa member by law. Iam speaking of the lower House, or House Commons. The upper House of Parliament is of course filled by Lords and Bishops, whose office is either inherited or subject to appointment by the queen or prime minister. And in the days of which I am writing, the people of the borough, as a town entitled to a representative was called, had in many places scarcely any claim to elect the members themselves. Often all or nearly all the land in a borough would be owned by one man or family, who generally claimed the right to require his tenants to vote as he wished. This ten left the election of a candidate practically in the hands of one man. Such boroughs were called ae boroughs. Before 1832, also, there had been ‘‘rotten boroughs,” as they were called, where the population was so small that they were not rightfully entitled to representation. An instance of this was Old Sarum, which had not a house in its borders, but sent two representatives to Parliament every year, while Birmingham, a large and industrious city, had no representative at all. The Reform Bill of 1832 did much to remedy these evils, and consequently a great many Liberals were chosen for the Parliament vac vh Riptateeee see Ss peeI a ET ar Ul 208 WILLIAM BB GLADSTONE of meee twas called the Reformed Parliament, and was the first in which William Gladstone sat. In the Duke of Newcastle’s borough he openly claimed the right to control the votes of his tenants. ‘‘ Have I not a right to do what I like with my own?” he asked. And it is an open secret that he chose Gladstone for the position because he believed the young man from Oxford was ‘‘against any and every reform.” His son had been a college mate of Gladstone’s and had heard him make a speech which gave that impression. It sounds very strange to us, who have thought of him as the leader in all great reforms in England for many years. At the time of taking his seat in the first Parliament, Gladstone was a handsome young man of twenty-four, with a fine physique, a pale face, splendid eyes, and hair black as night; and he grew hand- somer as the years went on. Says Mr. Justin McCarthy, who knew him intimately for many years: ‘‘] do not believe I ever saw a more magnificent human face than that of Mr. Gladstone after he had grown old. Of course the eyes were always superb. Many a stranger, looking at Gladstone for the first time, saw the eyes and only the eyes, and could think for the moment of nothing else. Age never dimmed the fire of those eyes.” There were several names in that first Parliament that have since become renowned names of history. Among these were Sir Robert Peel, Lord Macaulay, now so famous in literature, Grote, the historian of Greece, and, last but not least, the great Irish orator, Daniel O'Connell, for whom Gladstone soon formed a strong and lifelong attachment. Gladstone was for many years a consistent follower of that Tory policy which he had inherited from his beloved Oxford. His tather owned property and held slaves in the West Indies. He made a speech in which he defended his father’s course in regard to slavery. He believed in emancipation, but thought it should be gradual and that the slaves should be educated before being freed. He said: ‘Let fitness be made a condition for emancipation; and let us strive to bring him to that fitness by the shortest possible course.” He did not then see that the best and oftentimes the only preparation for freedom is freedom itself. 4 = w AS eeite ieee ia ts >= — f ae Sep PEEN ee AS Sees ey TNS! omTILE (GRAND OLD BEPC Ree oe 3 Ta : ty + Thy eles Pa 3 era od nse Sie, males ee ene 4A aah! eK RS; Le Frame a Cr al eee cae tikSy WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE Fortunately, there were those who saw farther; and this same Parliament, largely through the efforts of the Methodist Preacher Wilberforce, passed a bill for immediate emanc! ipation and appropri- ated twenty million pounds to pay the slave owners for their property. It seems a pity that Gladstone had not a nobler part in this. On another of the great questions of the day he took at this time the side that was opposed to liberty. This was the Irish church The great majority of the Imsh people were Catholic, question. ; Yet the English Parliament maintained a Protestant then as now. church in that island and levied taxes to support it. This compelled the Catholic majority to support a church which they hated. The law was not changed until 1869, giving Mr. Gladstone time to change his mind and vote on the side of religious freedom. He was never ashamed or afraid to change sides when he found that he had been in the wrong. About the time he entered Parliament he began to study law. This he continued for six years, and then gave up the desire to practice at the bar. But his legal training was not lost. It helped to clear his mind for those great political questions with which he was to grapple for so many yeats. In 1834 Gladstone was appointed Junior Lord of the Treasury, and the next year he became Under-Secretary for the colonies. In 1838 he published his first book, ‘‘The State in its Relations with the Church.” This made him many admirers and some enemies. The same year he made a second visit to a W hile in Rome he met Miss Catherine Glynne, who was spending the winter there with her sister Mary and her mother, Lady Glynne, of Hawarden Castle, Wales. The sisters were charming girls and were known as ‘the Handsome Miss Glynnes.” He had known them before in Wales, and his friendship for Catherine now made rapid progress. They became engaged, and were married the next year. Since that time Hawarden Castle has been his home whenever his exacting political life has allowed him to escape from London. The old Hawarden Castle is now a picturesque ruin, covered with ivy. It was used as a fort in the wars of the Saxons and Danes. Whe present castle is a handsome structure built of gray stone. ‘‘ Every- thing is old-fashioned, quiet and comfortable,” says a writer in a ere re ae ; aaa ti) ze“> \Sigpamreease RAE GRAND OLD: MAN: HAWARDEN. AT DN << C OLD CEES7 ic 212 WILLIAM E, GLADSTONE «Nothing could be simpler than Mrs. Gladstone's own London paper. living-room, bright and sunny, yellow- walled, flower-scented, with an Bright bec outlook from its ce windows upon the lawn. . . . o of flowers, scarlet, blue, and gold, sparkle in the sun against lawns a srass; and trees of all greens stand round, from the lightest of green leaves to somber hollies. ” He hada fine library of about fitteen thousand volumes. Huis study he called the Temple of Peace, because it was always devoted to quiet. He was a close student as long as he lived and read easily in several languages. In the room next to the study were two pianos and an organ. Mr. Gladstone was fond of music and played the piano well. Until a very few years ago, a favorite recreation with this strone- limbed statesman was that of chopping down such trees in Hawarden Park as were beginning to decay and needed removal. He was now fast becoming prominent in public life. - He began to fill high of fee under the government. During these years he was slowly changing his views from Tory to Whig, or from Conservative to Liberal. And he changed his actions just as fast as he changed his mind. On one occasion he resigned a high place in the Cabinet because he was not sure he agreed with the Prime Minister in regard to a certain bill whose principles he had been in the habit of oppos- ing. A few months later he voted and made speeches in favor of the bill. He developed a wonderful talent for finances. Addresses on money-matters are usually considered dry, but Gladstone knew how to make them so attractive that people would listen spell-bound to his financial speeches, even when they lasted for hours. From this time on his position as that of one of the great leaders of thought in England was assured. The famous ‘‘corn laws” laid heavy taxes on grains, and so raised the price of bread-stuffs, causing great suffering among the English poor. Gladstone had been a defender of these taxes, but when he saw the evil they were producing, he turned squarely around and threw his influence against them. They were done away with largely through Gladstone's efforts. He was always the friend of peace. He opposed the Crimean OETTT, (GIRAND OLD VAN: 213 war, but unsuccessfully. He was sent as commissioner to the Ionian Islands, whose inhabitants at that time wished to be united with Greece. He was successful in bringing this union about. His thorough knowledge of the Greek language, history and literature made him well fitted for this mission. About this time he published his ‘‘Studies on Homer and the Homeric Age,” and in 1861 a volume of translations from the Greek. During our Civil War, Mr. Gladstone sympathized with the Southern people and predicted their success, but a few years later he candidly admitted his mistake. ‘‘I must confess,” he said, ‘‘that I was wrong; that I took too much upon myself in expressing such an opinion, yet the motive was not bad. My sympathies were then where they had long before been, where they are now,—with the whole American people.” Perhaps there is not another example in history of a man who learned so much by living as Gladstone. His mind was always open to the truth, and he was always ready to take the next step forward. By the year 1865 he had become too liberal in his opinions to please his University of Oxford. He was defeated in the elec- tion, but was soon returned to Parliament from another borough. In 1866 he introduced the Reform Bill, whose purpose was to give the right of voting to thousands of the inhabitants of Great Britain who were then deprived of that privilege. It was carried in 1867. In 1869 Mr. Gladstone was made Prime Minister, thus receiv- ne the highest office in the gift of the English people. That office Ng he filled at four different times. He was once offered a baronetcy by the queen, but this he refused. His fame is safer with the people than any titles can make it. The name of Gladstone will need no ornamental attachment to make it long remembered as one of the noblest of the nineteenth century. In 1870 he introduced the Irish Land Act into Parliament. Nearly all the land in Ireland was owned by a few wealthy Eng- lishmen and was occupied and tilled by poor Irish tenants who were often turned out of their hovels to die by the roadside if unable to pay the high rents which were required. The purpose ot this Land Act of Mr. Gladstone’s was to lower the rent and improve the eg a mercnrnrnans (ON Rie Riiititieeicie tee ae are TT be Leeet = GLADSTONE INTRODUCING Wore AUIS eS THE HOME RULE BILL.TIT E (GRAND (OED VAAN: 215 condition of the tenants. It was opposed fiercely, but was finally passed. In 1881 he brought in another Land Bill, which was intended still further to extend the rights of the Irish tenants, and it, too, was passed. It was in the debate on this bill that he used the characteristic words: ‘‘It is said that we have failed in Ireland. I do not admit failure. JI admit success to be incomplete.” That spirit was one of the secrets of his marvelous success. He never admitted failure. He believed so much in the right that he could never doubt its final triumph. That faith gave him courage to work when nie would have given up in despair. | In 1886 he brought in hisnow famous Home Rule Bill for giving Ireland a Parliament of its own and the right to govern itself. The bill was voted down, but Mr. Gladstone never ceased so long as he 4 lived to work for the emanc Ipa ition of poor suffering Ireland. We must remember that he began by opposing Irish fre¢ oe on the ground that England knew better what was good for the Irish than oe ey did themselves. He ended by asking from the : nelish oY — * sovernment all that any reasonable Irishman could think of askin He was always moving on. In 1870 he favored the settlement of the Alabama claims by a peace commission and the payment of a large sum of money by Great Britain to this country to settle the difficulties without war. le was accused by some of wanting ‘‘ peace at any price, and made many enemies at the time. He could afford to make enemies in such a cause, for he knew that time would set him right with the world. Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone celebrated their golden wedding in 1889, when Mr. Gladstone was eighty years of age. Their domestic lite was a singularly happy one. They had eight children, four sons and four daughters. Two of the sons have been members of Parliament, and one of the daughters, Miss Helen Gladstone, is one of the vice- principals of Newnham college, and is prominent in many movements to secure O Bporuaites for the higher education of women. Mr. Gladstone retired from Parliament in 1894 and gave the remainder af his life mainly to literary pursuits. His sympathy for the Armenians during the Turkish outrages of 1895 and 6 called forth from his pen a vigorous and eloquent outburst, which proved that the old fire still burned on. Until a few months before his death his ea ec en ieee <1 aia \ ‘ ns . | at ¥health was remarkably vigorous for one of his age. useful and honorable life to a good old age by means otf his regular WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE a ar } GLADSTONE AND GRANDCHILD. \ tries and languages united in doing honor to the man many years the stanch and wise friend of the oppressed of all nations. RET UIE He preserved his } and. temperate habits, his v1io- Orous exXercise, tivity whic morning of May IO, 1898 He was buried “in Westminster Abbey with many of Ene- land’s greatest GeeaG. het death brough messages ol sympathy from many landsand the newspapers of many coun- who was for so4 emerge 5 a Se aed abl ee asNANSEN. A BEAR WAS CROUCHING ON THE ROOF OF Our Hut, GNAWING AT THE WALRUS HIDE. hihi a eee Sart tEaweas) werereas willis. = 2a i ae Tri ah By whnnass Shee hata cee ee S, -\\ BO ee ne 27 Spt ae FRIDTJOF NANSEP EXPLORER OF THE FARTHEST NORTH : gs 1 | Greet the unseen with a cheer. | e Browning, quoted by Nansen. 1 BE , | ce Ff you find anything stirring in t Hurope in the Middle Ag L from 800 down,” said a keen laa Ce ON a old German professor of his- | NANSEN WATCHING THE AURORA : af a, BOREALIS WHEN A CHILD. tory, ‘‘look out for a Norse- (4h man.” The old sea-kings of la Denmark, Norway and Sweden, down to 1000 A.D., were the pirates f Europe. The fearless sailors of the North were the forerunners 217 es aT nn ar kd218 FRIDTJOF NANSEN rts ees E me es 41 ~ += 4 r of European commerce. [hey brought fut from the north, amber from the shores and fish from the waters of the Baltic, and honey trom Greece. They were the explorers of the Medieval Age. They made settlements in Scotland and the Orkneys, in Ireland, France, Iceland, Greenland, perhaps on the continent of America. They con- quered England ee eer ee ee f twice over, once es through the Danes, once under William the Conqueror. They overran Italy, they went on pil- erimage to Jerusa- lem, they threat- ened the Eastern aoe: ie Empire. It is the te . So | blood of the Norse- i ee oe re ; man that has leav- ened Europe with courage and daring JULAXC AlLlt Lal Li Ss s Fridtjot Nansen has inherited the spirit as well as the blood of the “old Norse kings. He was born in Chris- tiania, the capital of Norway, in 1861. His grandfather's oerandtather’s erand- ee eee eet e o JL16, : father was Hans Nansen, a comman- FRIDTJOF NANSEN. der of ships for the Iceland Company for many years. Fridtjof’s father was an accomplished lawyer. oh birth or honored ances- His mother made no pretensions to hi try, but had a strong will and a brilliant intellect. She had a ae er eens my Bh a oe) oe a a eo beaks cate et 5 SE “2 ee AST ~~ } z hes nc Rete Reem a ek eee yy) aEXPLORER OF THE TFARLAEST NO REEL 219 mind of her own and cared little for public opinion. She was an accomplished snow-shoe runner, although that kind of recreation was tabooed to ladies at that time as unfeminine and improper. She was a thrifty and ‘‘managing” housewife, not afraid of disagree- able tasks, and would often do the work which the servants thought too hard for them. She worked in the garden and did all the fam- ily sewing, including the tailoring for the boys until they were quite srown up. Yet she found time for books and stored her mind with useful knowleds The Nansen home, where Fridtjof was born and bred, was in the outskirts of Christiania, where the boy had all the advantages of city and country combined,—fresh air and forests, familiarity with the a life of the farmers, one of the best schools in Christiania at a distance of two miles and a half, which, to a Nansen, was a mere trifle the way of walking, and last, but not least, eee hills for g snow-shoeing. Little Fridtjof and his brother early became accustomed to manly exercise and many dangers. [hey narrowly escaped drownin in the Frogner River, where they used to go switiming almost as soon as the ice was gone. The brother’s fishhook once went astray, and, instead of a fish, caught little Fridtjof in the lip. His mother it out with a razor and nobody cried. When he was five years he ran into the house one day with a face that could not be seen for the blood that was streaming from it. He had run against his berg, in his mother’s back yard. He shed no tears, but he still wears the scar, his ‘first ice-medal,” but not his last. He stuffed a cannon full of powder and looked into it to see why it didn't go off. It went off, and his mother again became a surgeon and picked the powder out of his face grain by erain with a needle His first snow-shoes were an old pair that had been worn by his brothers and sisters. He says they were precious poor ones. But a sympathetic friend promised to give him a pair. This was in the spring, and poor Fridtjof had to wait an interminable time until winter and had also to remind the friend several times—‘‘ What But he got them at last. He took part about those snow-shoes? Bare aa et SMe aka a rai are ti etseee : | 556 FRIDTJOF NANSEN in the races and won a prize. But he saw some peasants snow-shoe- Bi ing and found that he was not doing it according to the best f methods. He would not take the prize home until he had mastered the new way. The iron in his blood was already making itself felt. It is not strange that an imagina- tive Norway boy should have often Y watehed thiart | northern wonder, 3 the Aurora Bore- =—41 alis, through the v4 radiant splendor of those Norway nights, with feel- ings of keenest, de- ltoht; INor is at Strange if his youthful dreams were thron ge d with polar myste- ries and-~ that he early resolved to Penethake —tlte white silence of those frozen seas and bring back a tale of the mar- a NANSEN’S FIRST SNOW-SHOES. vels that lay be- | yond. He studied at the University of Christiania, but was too impatient tor the stirring life that haunted his dreams to take time to finish the course. He was scarcely twenty-one when he started on his first | polar expedition. He was gone five months. His ship, the Viking, ui was frozen fast in the ice on the east coast of Greenland for some time, and while there he first conceived the idea of crossing Green- hits iEXPLORER OF THE FARTHEST NORTH. land on snow-shoes. He killed fourteen polar bears during this trip and five hundred seals. On his return to Norway he app nted cura- I which he had had in the arcti seas, but it made no difference uis zeal. He pursued the der his microscope as earnestly as he had chased the polar bears in the frozen north. He wrote to his father, ‘‘I have become an absolute first-class stick-in-the-mud.” But he did his best to offset his quiet occupation by becoming yyy png POLAR BEARS a member of two athletic societies. IN GREENLAND. In 1886 Nansen spent a few months in Italy in the study of zoology. He returned home and wrote a trea- tise on the nervous system, which was so good that it won him his Doctor’s degree. While he was writing his thesis he was also deep SS eo eee ere a sea222 FRIDTJOF NANSEN in plans for his trip to Greenland. He said, “Tt will be a hard but pooh! I shall manage it.” And he did manage it, as he spring, A generous man was manages everything he pea found to provide the expenses of the expedition and the party started from Christiania on the second of May, 1888. They landed on the east coast of Greenland about the middle of July Doctor Nansen had given a great deal of ehouetit to the equip- ment of the party. They took with them sledges, which they had to draw themselves, for they shoes, or sk, a tent and two woolen sleeping-bags, a spirit stove for cooking, scientific instruments, tools, candles and darning needles h- “74 Tae re el) NT aruszeoi: ~ — , had no reindeer or dogs, Norwegian snow They also carried a large stock of provisions. I wish I had space to describe the hardships and adventures of this toilsome journey; I can only say that they accomplished it suc- cessfully and came out on the west coast in October. Here they found that the last ship of the season had already sailed for Denmark and they were compe led to spend the winter in Greenland. You will find the whole story most charmingly told in Nansen’s own book, ‘«« The First Crossing of Greenland.” After his return from the north, in 1889, Doctor Nansen was appointed curator of the museum of Comparative Anatomy at @hiistiania: During the same year he was married to Eva Sars, the daughter of a well-known naturalist. She is:the most accomplished lady ski- runner in Norway, and was well known before her marriage as a con- cert singer. While Doctor Nansen had been exploring in Greenland and dodging icebergs in the northern seas, he had also been thinking, and thinking toa purpose. He had been working out a plan by which he hoped to go a little farther north than any one had yet gone. He knew that at a certain season of the year there were strong north- westerly currents in the Arctic Ocean, and he believed that if a ship could be built strong enough to withstand the pressure of the ice, it would be carried by the drift straight across the polar sea. He would ‘“‘take a ticket with the ice,” he said. This plan received its fair share of ridicule. Men of science were very shy of favoring an enterprise so original and so bold. See SE RET ey) 1) thn menea mae EXPLORER OF THE FARTHEST NORTH. 223 Lieutenant Greely, who in 1884 had reached a point farther north than any other explorer had yet done, was unsparing in his criticism. In an article published in the /orum in 1891, after mentioning the names of several men prominent in northern exploration, he says: ‘“T have no hesitation in asserting that no two of them believe in the possibility of Nansen’s first proposition to build a vessel capable of living and navigating in a heavy Arctic pack, into which it is pro- posed to put his ship.” George Wallace Melville, of the unfortunate Jeannette expedi- tion, also expressed a similar opinion. Lieutenant Greely sketches a vivid picture of the trials and horrors of the situation and the prob- able sacrifice of life, and adds: ‘‘Arctic exploration is sufficiently credited with rashness and danger in its legitimate and sanctioned methods without bearing the burden of Doctor Nansen’s illogical scheme of self-destruction.” But criticism alone has never built a world, or even found one, and probably never will. Nor can it always prevent others from building and finding. Doctor Nansen paid no attention to the critics, but kept right on working out his plans. He believed in himself against the world until he brought the world around to his way of thinking. In describing his own attitude of mind, he once told this story at his own expense: ‘‘ There was a man in a madhouse in London who used to say: ‘I said the world was crazy, but the world said that I was crazy, so they put me here.’” But in the case of Nansen and the world, in regard to his polar expedition, he has certainly proved that he was not the crazy one. His ship, the ‘‘(Rram’—the name means ‘‘ Forward’—was built under his own personal direction. . It was made of gnarled Italian oak which had been seasoning for many years ina Norwegian dock. It was prob- ably as strong asa ship could be made. The timbers of the frame were a foot thick and placed only two inches apart, the space between being filled with a waterproof composition. Pitch-pine planks lined the walls. On the outside of the walls were three separate layers of oak, each of them watertight. The bow and stern were .covered with heavy iron plating. It remained to be seen whether the ‘‘ Fram” would be crushed in the ice ‘‘like an almond in the jaws of a nut-crack,” as Melville ee. Riikittanie eee te ee rT ee dal alacant224 eiegdp ibis ois cabelas au pee! wo bao The Sheet OF FRID TI OLE NANSEN had predicted, or whether it should fulfill the destiny for which it was designed by its heroic builder. Doctor Nansen and his carefully chosen crew of twelve men sailed away from Christiania in the ‘‘Fram™ on the 24th of June, 1893. They took with them stores of provisions to last six years in case thev should be lost or frozen fast in the ice, and so delayed me +. i s baeicnti Peet oe pa ae SA i sot eal =e 4, Ea i » THE ‘*‘FRAM’’ SAILING FROM CHRISTIANIA. beyond the three years for which the expedition was planned. They also took plenty of warm clothing, several pairs of sz, canoes, sledges and dogs to draw them. Great numbers of people watched them tll they became a mere speck on the water and at length faded quite out of sight. Many of the watchers had contributed money to aid in the expenses of the voyage. ‘‘Not one of them, probably, ” wrote Dr. Nansen, ‘‘knows what they are paying their money for. a Sg < ETN ir CR ee —— \ “ in eam k 3) ing ieee - ammeter ODE Te) Puree 3 ——. f =EXPLORER OF THE FARTHEST NORTH. 225 Maybe they have heard it is a glorious enterprise; but why? to what end? Are we not defrauding them? But their eyes are riveted on the ship, and perhaps there dawns before their minds a momentarv vision of a new and inconceivable world, with aspiration after a so} Ne=- | Lit ld, thing of which they know naught. And here on board are men who are leaving wife and child behind them. How sad has been the separation—what longing, what yearning await them in the comin Tears! ANG tt IS not for profit they do it. For honor ai then ? [hese may be scant enough. It is the same thirst for achievement, the same craving to get beyond the limit of the unknown which inspired this people in the Saga times, that is stirring them again to-day.” Doctor Nansen left behind him his youne wife and a five-months | old babe, who would never remember her father’s face if he should be lost in the ice-pack. Mrs. Nansen, who, like her husband, is an accomplished ski- runner, wished to accompany him on his hazardous journ But . 1 7 1 1 1 1 the little daugntel could not OO, and could not sta DenINGa tf De left both motherless and fatherless if the ‘‘Fram” should be lost. But the ‘‘Fram was not to be lost. The ocean current ts e true to the compass, the ‘‘ Fram’s” stout timbers survived the ice- berg’s ‘‘fleet of death” and drifted across the frozen sea exactly as her commander had said she should. In alittle more than three years she returned to the harbor of Christiania, bringing her brave commander and his trusty Captain Sverdrup, with every man of the crew safe and sound. The doctor had proved the truth of his theory with regard to the currents, had demonstrated that a ship could be built of sufficient strength for the trial, and had ‘‘beaten the record ” IT) y ~ cr of all previous explorers by go four degrees, or about two hundred and eighty miles farther north than even his formidable critic, Lieutenant Greely. While the ship was drifting on its northerly way its trained scientists were taking the most careful observations possible with their instruments. They sounded the depths of the water and found it much deeper than they had expected. They kept careful records of : : ] ent Ses el eg the temperature, the pressure of the air and other atmospheric cond1- tions. The lowest temperature recorded was 93% degrees below pine EO nent eo ee rrr cea aa ca dasa wa Vili 226 FRIDTJOF NANSEN freezing. Seventy or eighty degrees below the freezing point they considered mild and balmy for winter weather. They were not dis- turbed by the heat even in summer, as it was rarely above freezing. They studied the stars from this new field where man had never been before. They brought up samples of the ocean bed and carried away specimens of the vegetable and animal lite of those unknown regions. They took note of the curious antics performed by the magnetic needle in their compass. They made drawings of the magnificent auroral displays which brightened their long nights. And they made a windmill by means of which they furnished electric lights for their library. The leaders were wise enough to provide every possible means of recreation for the men, and so keep them from homesickness. They eround out dreadful music from the ship’s organ. They played eames, and they celebrated every available festival day, such as the Norwegian anniversaries and their own birthdays. All this time the ship was frozen fast in the drifting ice. They drifted to the northwest and back again. They crossed the 8oth degree of latitude and zigzagged back across it again, — Buescher course was generally to the northwest. In November, 1895, they very nearly reached the latitude of 86 degrees. They were prac- tically within four degrees of the pole when the current shifted. Had the ship been allowed to keep on drifting, it is thought she would have come out off the east coast of Greenland. When they had drifted long enough, they loosened the ship from the ice by blasting, and in twenty-eight days they had reached the open sea to the north- west of Spitzbergen. While the trusty ship with her brave crew were doing their noble part in simply ‘‘ drifting, drifting, drifting, On the shifting Currents of the restless main,”’ Doctor Nansen and his friend, Lieutenant Johansen, were absent on a sledge expedition across the ice. They left the ship on the 14th otf March, 1895, and succeeded in reaching a point a little farther north than the highest latitude reached by the ‘‘Fram.” Ihey were gone fifteen months and crossed hundreds of milesof ice. They had three 3 = Bs = aL Eee) where:EXPLORER OF THE FARTHEST NORTH. DeN sledges drawn by twenty-eight dogs to carry their supplies as well themselves, and two kayaks, or Eskimo canoes. as They took with them food for three months, plenty of woolen clothing, two sleeping- bags, a silk tent, two pairs of skz, their rifles and instruments for measuring latitude and longitude, etc. The ice was rough and often full of crevasses. It was hard See rat. eemae eyo ee Seu, heme . Pe Ce OE xs Sate, i * : i : ‘FARTHEST NORTH,’’ 1&Q6. traveling for dogs, but they went about a hundred and forty miles in less than three weeks. They reached the latitude of 86° 14’ in December, 1896. The ice jetties were harder and harder to cross and the dogs were growing weak. Their food was nearly exhausted and for a time they found no game. At length provisions were so scarce that they were compelled to kill some of the dogs to teed the others. Even the men were so nearly famished that they had EES Rs RR a a oe NN ETTct arent A tah nac OE a : wi oit 228 FRIDT/JOF NANSEN lood. This was the saddest trial of the expedition. to drink the dogs’ b The cold was terrible. It It seemed like murdering one’s friends. would have been tempting death to go farther. southward and soon killed a bear and a walrus. and they were not particular about the kind. They turned to the After that food was plenty, such as it was, They could eat anything, cooked or raw. The two companions reached Franz Josef Land in August, 1395, and there they spent another of those long nor They killed plenty of bears and walruses and so did not But it was the longest winter they had ever known. thern nights which last all winter. lack for food. They had little to do except read the Nautical Almanac and sleep in their fur bags. In May it grew light enough for them to travel more easily and they started southward. It was two hard-looking tramps that reached the ‘‘Fram” after fifteen months of terrible hardship and It was a glad day for sailors and wanderers alike. It was The ship seemed like a palace to hey thought the most exposure. almost like a reunion after death. the two wanderers, and the plain ship fare t delicious they had ever eaten. Captain Sverdrup lost no time in steaming his good ship home to Norway. But the ‘‘Fram ~ was built for strength rather than speed, and it was not until August that they entered Christiania harbor after an absence of more than three years. Then’ Norway went wild. Lhe ‘‘Fram” sailed into the fjord amid the roar of welcoming cannon. Thirteen volleys were fired in honor of the thirteen members of the expedition. Doctor Nansen ee Achore, and from a lofty’ platiorm) erected” tou Sele occasion received an enthusiastic greeting from the mayor. ‘Then the Doctor mounted the platform and accepted the welcome in his hearty way, speaking modestly of himself and his achievement and giving all the credit he could to the ‘‘ Fram” and his thirteen loyal men. Then a pretty sight appeared at one of the palace windows. His five-months-old baby had during his absence grown into a three- year-old little blue-eyed girl. She now appeared at the palace window, waving her hand and smiling at the crowd. The queen had arranged that she should first meet her father in the palace. And then the glad people let him go home to his own house. ooEXPLORER OF THE FARTHESE NORE 229 But of the happiness in that home and thirteen others that day, no one need try to tell. [he festivities were kept up for a week. A few davs later, Doctor Nansen was seen by Herbert Ward, an American author who wrote an account of the return of the ‘‘ Fram ” for one of our maga- ZINES. The Doctor was standing on the shore and looking over into the town. ‘‘I have been taking a good look at my house again,” he said, smiling.’ ‘‘It’s now a long time since I saw it.” Mr. Ward went to the house with him and heard the story of the voyage from Doctor Nansen’s own lips. When he began to talk, little Liv, as his baby daughter is called, was playing in one corner of the room. But as he grew more earnest in his recital. she left her } corner and stood on one of his charts by his side, looking up into his ialf expression as if she were wonder- ing if this great stalwart, splendid fellow who called himself her father Doctor Nansen has since written and published a full account of this expedition in a book called ‘‘ Farthest North.” In 1897 he made a tour of the United States, visiting and ecturing in the pri | cities and receiving everywhere an enthusi- astic welcome. In Chicago, Central Music Hall was crowded to hear h ln appearance he is a typical Norwegian, blue-eyed and fair- hair d, ta] a 1d Imus ular, aS We imagine his ancestors, the old Vikings, to have been He speaks with the force and eloquence which simpleness and directness give. His English is perfect except for a northern accent and a burr of the ~ which gives added strength and charm to his Of course we must not forget that Doctor Nansen has stood on the shoulders of all the explorers and scientists who have gone before him and has profited by their labors and reaped the harvest of their toils. And now he has given of the wealth of his own hard-bought experience to enrich the world.’ This is as it should be. This is what we are all for, great and little, to make bridges of ourselves on which the men and women of the future shall cross to higher and still higher achievements. Perhaps some one who shall read these pages TOT og SRT a ee eee a mein dine i sdi is h 2.30 FRIDTJOF NANSEN may be stirred by the story of Doctor Nansen to press on and find the Pole itself, or something better, more likely, for, missing the thing i for, how often we find a better thing, just as Columbus, we look searching for a new route to India, found a continent and never knew it. But Doctor Nansen is still comparatively a young man and may yet climb on his own shoulders to a success which shall dwart his achievements already won. We shall hope to hear from him again. He is still ‘‘breast forward” in the battle for science, and loves to quote these inspiring lines of the poet Browning, which, whether he knows it or not, so well express Doctor Nansen’s own purpose and character: «© One who never turned his back, but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake. ‘No, at noonday in the bustle of man’s work-time Greet the unseen with a cheer ! Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be, ‘¢ Strive and thrive!’ cry ‘ Speed, —fight on, fare ever There as here!”’aon CLAKA BARTON THE ANGEL OF THE BATTIEERIEED She lightened the burden of life to others. +7 re -chot. Geors TC{ Liss POND, Pia. a me ck % Let tA BARTON is a slen- ler little woman with soft brown eyes, thin gray hair, a larse but firm mouth, and small, delicate hands which ac- ; company her rapid, earnest speech with frequent gestures and add greatly to the charm and liveliness of her conversation. She is rather below the medium height, but carries some- thing queenly in her manner. Her dress is always simple, her favorite color being green. One of her sisters is credited with once having said: ‘When Clara goes to town to buy a brown dress, a brown dress I know she will get, for Clara always does as shi SaAVS. But One Way Or another, that dress always Y oie ! manages to turn green betore she can get home. cas Ten) TWPU ER eS rorya. [a ee ye omen SSUES ———eSea hea ae cot ones eten a) CLARA BARTON 232 Savs a writer who has known her well, ‘‘I believe I have never yier face than that of Clara Barton.” Yet it is looked upon a hap} Perhaps that is the certain she has never sought her own happiness. | ———_ CLARA BARTON—‘‘ THE ANGEL OF THE SICK-ROOM.”’ 13} = ; reason she has found it. Her whole long busy life has been employed in making less unhappy the lives of miserable ones and in sharing the burdens of those weaker than herself. * > Ves. Ln ear eR LENE AT 7 i} LT ae Sestneoent sree han eesTHE ANGEL OF THE BATTLE RIEED: 233 She was born in 1830 in North Oxford, Massachusetts, the youngest of five children. She came of good old Puritan stock, her ancestor, Marmaduke Barton, having come over to New England a few years after the settlement of Plymouth. The name Barton meant ‘‘ defender of the town.” Her father’s name was Stephen Barton. He was a man of strong character and great influence in his town and had been in his youth a soldier under ‘‘ Mad Anthony” Wayne in the Indian wars in the West. As a child, Clara was full of spirits and bubbling over with girlish fun and frolic. She seems to have liked boyish sports Andee a fine horse-back rider. She can not re member that she ever had a doll. She preferred cats and dogs for pets, especially if they were sick or otherwise unfortunate. : She did, however, have one kind of inanimate playmates—a set of wooden soldiers, made for her by one o! her brothers. With these she and her father would orten ho ) 1dian wars ot his ct ~~ ct ——t = — young days. None of the biographers whom I have consulted have mentioned that the real purpose of these battles was to provide wounded soldiers for nursing. But when I state that some of the wooden men were put to bed after each engagement and rolled up in bandages and fed on peppermint and gruel, I am certain no one will 1 . be so discourteous as to ask for my authority. Surely, one should have wit enough} to find out a few things without a book. hool at the age of 1 ; to the school-house on the shoulder of her brother ( —< “1 I vegan to go to sc The precocibus little maiden three years, ridin Stephen, the teacher ot the school. At nine years old she was sent away from home to school. She lived for two years in the family of her teacher, a man so kind and noble that she can not speak of him to this day with dry eyes. When she was eleven years old a great care fell upon her and her studies 4#vere interrupted for some time. This was caused by a most unhappy accident to one ol her brothers. He fell from the roof of a building on which he was at work and was so badly hurt that he was uttable to leave his bed fortwo years. During all that time, Clara was his tender nurseand devoted companion. He wanted her always by his side and she would give up the care of him to no one else. aa eye oe es ee ee a ld aaa a234 CLARA BARTON I have called this event an unhappy accide nt, and so it certainly e. But it is more than probable that the experience it seemed to | 3 . of A becoming a nurse brought to Clara Barton was one great caust in later vears and saving the lives of so many soldiers in our Civil War. Perhaps, after all, there are no unhappy accidents, or any accidents at all if we understood. The Bartons were poor, and it was not long before the helpful youngest daughter went out into the world to help hghten the family burdens and provide means to continue her education. At fifteen she began teaching in the schools near her home and we are told that the committeemen were always elad to secure her as a teacher. After a little she studied for some time in Clinton, New York, and then resumed her teacher’s tasks. When she was about twenty- three she opened a free school for girls in Bordentown, New Jersey, beginning with six pupils. She received very little encouragement at first. The prominent men of the town laughed at her plans and hopes. Several men had tried to carry on a school in the town and had been driven out by unruly pupils. What could a young girl do? Miss Barton soon proved what a girl could do. She taught her six pupils just as faithfully as she would have taught a large school. Other children began to be attracted. The school committee were convinced of her abilit They followed her advice anal built a large school-house, and before the year was gone she had organized a graded school of six hundred interested pupils. Her success was complete. Her work in Bordentown was very trying and she at length went to Washineton to seek rest and visit relatives. There a friend obtained for her a position as clerk in the Patent Office. She was the first woman employed in the office, and the men resented her presence and tried to make the place so disagreeable for her that she would have to leave. The gentlemanly clerks stood up in rows along the lone corridor through which she h: ad to pass, and amused them- selves by staring and whistling as she went by. But Miss Barton did not appear to see them. She walked past as calmly as if they were decorations on the wall. They tried sane ways to push her out, but the superintendent of the office dismissed some of the men and appointed women in their places. She had scored another success in the interest of right and justice.THE ANGEL OF THE BATTLEFIELD. 236 When Mr. Buchanan became President, Miss Barton was dis- missed from her office for no reason except that she belonged to the wrong political party, but she was soon needed to straighten out some tangled records and was recalled by the same administration. She was in Washington when the Civil War broke out. When the Sixth Massachusetts regiment arrived after being fired upon in Baltimore, bringing with them forty sick and wounded soldiers, Miss Barton met them at the station and set about seeing what could be done for them. It was Saturday night and they had no supplies. She went to the markets and bought food, hiring five strong negroes to carry the baskets of provisions to the starving men. She went herself and saw it properly distributed, attending to the comfort of the men in ways that no one else thought of. Soon after this the soldiers began to arrive in large numbers and the hospitals were filled to overflowing. Miss Barton resigned her position in the Patent Office and gave her entire time to looking after the soldiers, especially the sick ones. She had been having a good salary and it was a great pleasure to her that she had a little money of her own to spend on articles which were not otherwise provided. When people began to send clothing, fruits, jellies and medicines for the soldiers, many sent them directly to Miss Barton, feeling sure that in her care they would be wisely and honestly used. She would often have tons of such supplies on hand and had to engage warehouses for their reception. In 1861 she was called home to the deathbed of her father. She told him how she was pained by the sufferings of the soldiers and how she wanted to go with the army to the front where the fighting was soing on and the misery was greatest. His reply was, ‘‘Go, if you feel it your duty to go! I know what soldiers are, and [I know that every true soldier will respect you and your errand.” There seemed to be no place in war fora woman. But she went to the Assistant Quartermaster General and he made a place for her, issuing an order that she should be allowed to go where she pleased. She ordered a wagon to be loaded with such comforts as the sick and wounded would need, and followed General McClellan, reaching the army the day before a battle. When the battle opened she had her mules harnessed and followed the line of artillery with her wagon a Pen ne ae ne ee eee ik a 4 gemma ———"7 aN I~ 236 CLARA BARTON of supplies. She stopped in a cornfield where the vounded men were brought. Shot and shell flew thick around them. She found a few men and set them to work to help the wounded. She » seemed to have in her wagon everything that every one else had forgotten. When her bread was all gone she found that her medicines were packed in meal and she made eruel of the meal. This was sent In bucketfuls for miles along the lines. When night came on despair came with it, for there were a thousand dying men on the field of battle and the army supplies included no lights. But Miss Barton had thought of candles and lanterns, and the work of aiding the suf- fering went on through the night. She was always at the front. At Frederic cksburg she slept in her tent, like the others, though it was in the dead of winter. At one time fifty soldiers were brought to her who had been wounded several days and had had no care. They were nearly starved and their clothes were frozen stiff. She ordered fires to be built, the snow to be cleared off and the soldiers to be laid on blankets around the fire. Then she ordered the men to pull down the chimney of an old house and heat its bricks to lay around the men. She could make comfort where there was nothing to make it of, for she had a head as well as a heart. An incident related by General Elwell of Cleveland, Ohio, I will repeat in his own words. It occurred during the retreat of General Pope after the second battle of Bull Run: ‘‘Miss Barton was about stepping on the last car conveying the wounded from the field with the enemy’s cavalry in sight, and shot and shell from their guns falling on our disordered ranks, when a oldier told her that there was left behind in the pine bushes, where he had fallen, a wounded young soldier; that he could not live, and that he was calling for his mother. ‘She followed her guide to where the boy lay. It was erowing dark and raining. She raised him up and quietly soothed him. When he heard her voice he said in his delirium, ‘Oh! my mother has come. Don’t leave me to die in these dark woods alone—do stay with me—don’t leave me.’ “At that moment an officer cried out to her: ‘Come imme- diately, or you will fall into the hands of the rebels—they are on us.’‘« Well, take this boy. ‘’©No, said the officer, ‘there is no men. We have hardly room for the living. Come ‘“«Then I will stay with this poor boy. W stay.’ Both went. The boy was taken to a hospital and his mother came before he died. It would b: speak of her gratitude to Clara Barton. sometimes on old scraps of paper, sometimes on carefully hidden his copy away. He assisted Miss tify the graves of all but about four hundred of there, and she had sim] headboards placed at She used her own mon for all this we rk. but wards restored sand dollars. In 18609 Miss Barton went for rest to But her rest was always to be found In action: Society had already been tormed in Geneva, and nations in the world except ours had joined it. Fa nal aaa lal La SG THE ANGEL OF THE BATPEPFLIELD: no transportation for dying 237 - quick.’ VVe both TO. Ol both in. Washineton USELESS TO EEV tO nd where their : her. She nd established a Contederate n were buried 1)0Oner who had them secretly, rags, and had Barton to iden- . S( icdie 1S buried all the graves. Coneress after- of fitteen thou- in Switzerland. The Red Cross all the civilized\ > as : ue fim r ys hy es } Se aed eae Grex 238 CLARA BARTON The basis of the society was a treaty among the nations of the o protection of nurses, surgeons, and all persons engaged in caring for the wounded in battle. The white flag with < l the sign which should ensure protection. This was the Swiss national flag with the colors reversed. The leaders of the society urged Miss Barton to undertake the work of interesting the United States in this treaty. But the Franco-Prussian war was just beginning and the Red Cross asked for Miss Barton’s help on the battlefields of Europe. o the front to help the sick, the earth providing for the red cross was made She forgot her illness and went t starving and the wounded everywhere, on the the other, for it is a principle of the Red Cross Society, as it has alwavs been of Clara Barton’s, to aid the enemy s wounded as readily one side as much as as one’s OWN. She went to Paris just as the siege was dver. On one occasion a starving a5 had routed the police, when Miss Barton ap peared and spoke to them in her calm, reasonable way. ‘‘ God!” they said, “it is an angel.” And they too became calm and reasonable. She became an intimate friend of the daughter of the old Emperor Wilham, the Grand Duchess of Baden, an earnest worker in the cause of the Red Cross. It must have been beautiful. to see these two women together, the German princess gladly giving up the luxury and leisure of her palatial home for the painful, toilful life in the hospitals, and the gentle American, with her poor, tortured, pain- racked body, forgetting her own suffering in the deeper miseries of others. After the war Miss Barton returned to America and after a long series of disappointments succeeded in 1882 in establishing an American branch of the Red Cross with an ‘‘ American amendment ” which provides that the society shall act not only in time of war but also in the case of great national calamities, like floods, fires, and earthquakes. This amendment has since been adopted by several European countries. Miss Barton was made the first President and has fulfilled the duties of the office ever since. It was not long before work was found for the new society. Fires in Michigan and Wisconsin, floods along the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, and the terrible CharlestonTHE ANGEL OF THE BATTLEFIELD. 239 earthquake, all caused untold suffering and all moved the and the kind offices of the Society of the Red Cross. During the winter of 1895-6, the sufferings of the sympathy Armenians 1 outrages became so great that the sympathies of the civilized world were aroused. Funds were raised in America for the under [Turkis relief of the starving. Responsible persons were needed to administer the supplies, and the Red Cross Society was invited to take the responsibility, with its dangers and hardships. It was a hard sea voyage in the dead of winter, and a dangerous and toilsome mission for a frail woman of sixty-five. But Clara Barton’s name itself was a charm. She could go where no one else could gain admission. G4 She responded, “‘I am a poor sailor, but I will go. There o is nothing else to do.” There was never but one way open for this loyal woman, and that was the path of duty. Again in the beginning of 1898, when we could no longer shut our ears to the cry of our starving neighbors in Cuba, the nation called tor Clara Barton. When President McKinley asked for contributions to provide food, clothing and medicines for the sufferers, the response was worthy of a generous people. Again, no one would be so safe as Clara Barton, and no one else could be so trusted with the people's silts. It was the old story, ‘‘ [here was no one else to go, so I went.” She recently told the story of her work in Cuba to a reporter for the Outlook, and it is to his article, published in the Ovzetlook for April 9, 1898, that lam indebted for most of my information on this subject. She reached Havana in February. She was warmly received by 1er plans wy General Blanco and the Spanish Chancellor, who approved and gave her such assistance as they could—for, so contagious are sympathy and generosity that if we were a nation of Clara Bartons we could turn our warships into hospitals and orphan asylums, and subdue the Spaniards with love—‘‘the greatest thing in the world.” It is to our shame that we can not conquer by the gentle method. But it would be still more to our shame if, in the cause of humanity, we failed to use the poorer weapons of torpedoes and cannon if it 1s indeed true that we are not yet great enough to use the highest. Miss Barton afterwards visited the principal Cuban towns, organizing a better hospital service and looking after the distribution of several shiploads of supplies. cs nen Cae eee ei 1 aaa240 CLARA BARTON In the town of Jaruca she found the people in a terrible con- dition. It was crowded with veconcentrados, as the Cubans are called who are driven from their farms into the towns by the Spaniards. They can usually get nothing to do and have to depend upon the towns-people for everything. The people of Jaruca had divided with the new-comers over and over again. “Twelve thousand people had died there within a few months—as many as usually live in the town—and it was still full of the sick and dying. The mayor and judge met Miss Barton and her friends with great cordiality and took a wretched place. The house was fairly good, them to the hospital but it was so dirty that Miss Barton thought it was dangerous to enter it. There were four sick men. She had them turned out into the sunshine, and she sent for men to clean the building. Water was so scarce that she had to buy it. She had the house thoroughly scrubbed, the walls whitewashed and the grounds raked and sprinkled with lime. She sent a physician and plenty of wholesome food, good clean beds and blankets, cans of condensed milk, grains and rice. The hospital was soon full of veconcentrados. Before this they would not go there if they could help it, for it was a worse place to die in than the ditches where they already were. Everybody turned in and helped Miss Barton—the priest, the doctors, the mayor, the people. Then she wanted an orphan asylum. Within forty-eight hours she had one ready for use. It was soon full. Forty starving little ones were brought in from the ditches, where their mothers and fathers had died. Miss Barton had them washed and dressed and put into clean beds, where they soon forgot their troubles and slept as sweetly as happy children in comfortable American homes. They learned to love Miss Barton, and all who were old enough crowded around to kiss her hand when she came away. She returned for the time being under the advice of Consul- General Lee, but at this writing, May 1, she is at Key West on board the Red Cross steamer Texas, ready to go wherever she is needed most. And the rest of the story can not now be told, because it is yet in the future. Clara Barton’s only home is in Washington, our seat of govern- ment, in the same building with the Red Cross Society. It 1s a plain brick house, built in the time of our Revolutionary fathers, and rich inTE ANGEL OF GEG BA TEEEFIETEE MOE ~~ ~. ‘4 : q Ps at ‘ “yg % 3 ; > ak ts . 22794) y t " eg “ ec] i . — | rahe! ' eae | Peemm,! 4 —— \ - 7 WA IN A CUBAN HOSPITAL. A wea came. Cs Be Rs een TC ee RCS OPN ce PLEASE AT 9 ITY242 CLARA BARTON | historic memories. The walls of the entrance hall are lined with the flags of many nations, all personal tributes to this wonderful woman. In the entire house there is not a picturé or a decoration, from the portrait of her loved friend, the Grand Duchess of Baden, to the vase of wild rice gathered on Morris Island, but has a meaning anda history. It is a house that tells the story of a life. I have related but a few of the kind deeds of a noble woman. In war and peace she has saved hundreds of lives and relieved thou- sands from misery. She has touched thousands more, who have never looked upon her face, with cheer and courage. She has been a part, and in this country the greatest part, of that great interna- tional movement which has already dotted with peace the battle-fields of the world. It is a movement which must grow and grow, because it is good and right. And when the spots of peace which the Red Cross has sown on the earth shall have spread over the world and become a uni- versal peace, then the name of Clara Barton will be even more hon- ored than it is to-day.ROE, ee Taal a Bi es Ree ae ena x siiaieniiadaa - Phe --.-+--- emetic ak alt at | £8 as izeMOODY’S FIRST SUNDAY SCHOOL CLASS (in 1856).—H WALKED IN AT THE HEAD OF 18 RAGGED CHILDREN. Ce eae ae ~ ; Ss ; rrr 8 ee eb aeDWIGHT L. MOODY hie EV ANGELS The common people ORTHFIELD is a beautiful spot on the Connecticut river, near the northern boundary line of Massachusetts. On one of the principal streets, embowered in trees, stands a spactous white framed house, with broad verandas, the home of Dwight L. Moody. JLo be sure, he spends John Wesley said of Sj mpathi s to the end of the earth. But his cheery, hospitable wife more time away from it than in it, for ‘‘the world is his parish,” as imself, and his feet are constantly following his is generally there to greet triend or stranger though no one is a stranger long—and Mr. Moody returns to it often to find ‘‘i’ the light o’ home” strength and courage to meet the duties of his world-wide parish. r been born at Mr. Moody is now sixty-one years old, having Northfield in 1837. Hus father, a farmer and stone-mason, died when Dwight was four years old. lhe mother was left with seven sons and two dauchters, the eldest being a boy of fifteen years. Debts swallowed up the property that was left, leaving little but the home. The mother cultivated the garden with the help of the children, did all the odd bits of work that fell in her way, besides going out of her way for others, and managed to keep the children together until they were old enough to look out for themselves. This would make us think that Dwight L. Moody is like his mother, though she tells us that the father was a hard worker, too. Soon after the father’s death another trouble came to the lonely mother. Her eldest boy fell into the bad habit of reading a poor 243 ee eee oo TES re i teas i Nat So bee— IDG CAELIE Ths WKOXOV DS. 244 He had a strong imagination, and these a class of exciting novels. aaa) 5 e . . s f f - z <7 ry At > £ books cheated him into thinking that 1t was foolish to stay at home so out into the world and drudge for a living when one might as well gc and make his fortune out of his good luck. DWIGHT LL. MOODY. 3 | « TATA i RUAN te : pr Z ys oe A) ANN \\ 3 Q BOR rhe / “ SE ARSON GY [OUSE WHER EE SURRENDERED men. He was as much loved by his students as he had been by his. liers. After his death the collezge was re-named in his honor and is now known as Washington and Lee University. His sympathies with students were ready and quick, and he had a wondertul memory for names and faces. A recent magazine writer, relating some p rson 1 recollections of Washington University, is he was formally introduced to cm pens Ie BR eh ee nee ORSON i. a TG er os RS a,270 ROBERT E. LEE. General Lee with about thirty others among the four hundred new students that thronged the campus, and that six weeks afterwards the General met him and called him by name. The same writer relates two other occurrences so characteristic of the man that I will quote the account in full: ‘‘T had another experience not so agreeable. = . = Dunme one of the public celebrations of 1870 I was the orator selected from the Washington Literary Society, and after my oration had been submitted to the committee | added a few closing sentences which were intensely Southern and which I knew would catch the popular VV applause. General Lee was surprised and shocked. How it was that I escaped a personal reprimand I do not now recall. I learned, however, of the General's indignation; that he had brought the sub- ject up before the Faculty, and that I narrowly escaped expulsion. “<] will tell of another occurrence, which was currently reported among the students as showing how determined the President was upon this point. Ata Faculty meeting one of the professors made some yee remark about General Grant. General Lee, in indignation, rose from his chair, and, looking the professor full in the Ace. said to him: ‘Sir, if you ever presume again spectfully of General Grant in my presence, either you or I will sever his connection with this University.’ ” Robert E. Lee died in 1870. In his last hours, like Napcleon, he lived again through the battles he had fought. He was heard to sive the command, ‘‘Strike the tent;’” he then called for one of his officers, say ying earnestly, ‘‘ Tell Hill he must come up. ~ His gray horse Traveller, who had carried him through so many battles, wal ik ed with the mourners to the grave. North and South mourned together for the dead hero. His enemies had long ago become his friends. > ee ers =) TES)SUSAN B. ANTHONY A CHAMPION OF EQUAL RIGHTS Winning by inches, holding by clinches, Slow to contention, and slower to quit. — Robert Collyer. sic LLY years aco ems were not of so much consequence as they are to-day. Jhere were very few things that it was con- sidered proper tor them todo. In school they were taught only the simplest branches. leading, writing, and a little arithmetic were thought quite enough for a girl to know. If now and thena cirl had the ambition to learn what her brothers did, it was thought ] a great pity that her tastes were not more feminine. When he: brothers were away at college, she must stay at home, spinning, ss 1 1 4-4 1 : Weavl1n lat ] NUtTe! LT Nees¢ If her family was wealthy it was even worse. A little weakly music, alittle drawine of flat figures, and a great deal of horrible embroidery in colored worsteds served to pass the time away. When a boy was twenty-one, he might go where he wished and do what he liked. If he staid at home and worked for his father, he must be paid for it. Buta girl must stay at home until she was ' . - > . rm ad sil ] y eh . “ale made a member of the business committee, and the war began. The d+ ‘(dan h, in ] ie CE seta TiN “+1 : : President of the meeting and other honorable’ gentlemen re 1 ete 1, jes 1 ee a "4 Vi fe norrmned at the bare thought of a woman in sucha position. VIS Abb les. l]x + .cetar t + TY \f | sneak in x rn] + > } +] ALDI INé] oster attempted to speak 1n explal n UE ENE! LS sis mrnar th h saAnld “J 4 ] L ; lL] | such an uproar that sn could not be heard and she was obliged to io is es ‘ ally eee “oentlel Fe ee le sn Lake NeEr Seat. ne Crowd Ol ventiemen made themselves 1nto a > oh TW Tr | Yr sy] ne ‘ r f + al wal x . I xr » 7 ] > yey fe mob 1n order to silence a few quiet, orderly women. tC WaS alt lengtn tal FI cya ik fat : 7 a Wee es voted tnat the credentials of the women delegates should not be accepted. Mr. [Thomas W. Higginson then issued an invitation to all who wert In favor ol a whol world's convention that 1S, one which ] lA 1am? == a : “ |] — . ¢ en { 7 ; ] nl . aah . snould admit women as Well as men LO MeEcCE IN anownel }) 1 CE 1 ¢ women delegates and their friends then withdrew. Mr. Higeinsons Invitation resulted in a meeting of three thousand persons a tew days later, and Susan B. Anthony was elected its President. A scene ae to the first of these two temperance meetings was enacted the same year in an educational cs a in Rochester, and again Miss Anthony was the cause of the trouble. She had listened for hours to a discussion, which, as she thought, left the main point untouched. She thought she understood the matter. She arose and ‘Mr. The President did not know what to do, said, President. ” 1 ton last March, ‘‘looking twenty years younger than her seventy- eight years,” it was said, in spite of the plain. black dress which she always wears, and her crown of white hair. While she was there a birthday reception was given her by Mrs. McLean, in one of the most beautiful homes in Washington. It was attended by Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Philip Sheridan, and other well-known ladies who believed they were honoring themselves in doing honor to Susan B. Anthony. ee EN eoA CHAMPION OF EQUAL RIGHTS: 279 It was once the fashion in some quarters to hoot at Miss Anthony when she appeared in public. When I first saw her it was a little in the fashion to smile at her as if she were abroad to amuse the public. And perhaps the amusement has not yet quite di peared. But before we join in the smile, let us be sure we counted up all the privileges we owe her in whole or in part. are a few who like to call her ‘‘ Saint Anthony;” and it Is sate that there are those in the calendar who have need to look 1 than she tor their title to saintship.FRANCES WILLARD iy | | | | let | i | | | | | | | | | | } | | | | | | | | | ie | | | | 1 | | | | | | | ’ i : i | | | | 1 | | ie ote FRANCES WILLARD. PM ares oe air PUNE Ce Fe ann ideale Et eeRee é bat 4 ip ie in Cae a. 4) FRANCES E. WILLARD EARLIEST PORTRAIT. STUDENT—18 YEARS. LATEST PORTRAIT— 58 YEARS. PRECEPTRESS LIMA SEMINARY——28 YEARS. DEAN WOMAN'S COLLEGE—-34 YEARS. PRESIDENT W. C. T. U.—48 YEARS. ee! Se eee as ane tet en re ee SW] os d tiFa FY —— a FRANCES WILLARD THE APOSTLE OF TEMPERANCE She remembered the to-morrows ol the worl An 1a NCES WILLARD was born September 28, 1839. Her father’s name was Josiah Willard and her mother’s maiden lame was Mary Thompson Hill. Both were natives of Ver- Cl ea .