The spirit of enterprise engendered by the large business interests in which the leading citizens are engaged is manifest also in the management of public affairs, and the town is noted for liberal expenditures of money in the way of substantial improvements. The public buildings, with the exception of two high-school houses recently erected, and the new Universalist Church in North Attleboro, a handsome brick structure, demand no special mention; but its system of abundant water supply and the provision made for an efficient fire department are standing advertisements that the town looks carefully after the health and protection of its citizens and their homes. For many years the Farmers and Mechanics Association has held an autumnal town fair, where in its ample grounds and halls are exhibited a fine display of farm stock, implements and produce, domestic and artistic handiwork, and manufactured goods of the trades. The grounds contain also a fine half-mile track, on which is annually made a showing of horses owned in Attleboro that would compare favorably with any other in the country. Another organization which attests the live, progressive spirit of the place is the Board of Trade, to which most of the leading business men belong. It was established in the spring of 1881, with commodious rooms and appointments on Washington Street, North Attleboro.

No town in Bristol county has provided more liberally for the education of youth than Attleboro, and in the larger centres a graded school system has been adopted; nor is it lacking in the appointed means of moral improvement, since there are within its limits no less than fifteen religious societies, holding regular Sunday services. Two weekly newspapers, the Advocate and the ... are published in the place; there are also two national banks, one savings bank, and a savings and loan association.

Did space permit, it would be possible to single out from the many sons and residents of Attleboro, men who have become distinguished for learning and the public and private services they have rendered their fellow-men; but it must suffice here simply to remark that it is the crowning glory of the town to count among its citizens a large number of sagacious, sensible men of affairs, who have built up its manifold interests, and by personal enterprise and energy have secured for the place a large measure of material prosperity. Very early in its history the family names of these substantial men appear on the records of the town—Allen, Peck, Carpenter, Daggett, Robinson, Blackinton, May, Thacher, Richards, Capron, Ide, Wheaton, Bliss, and others,—names that stand for character, influence, thrift, and wealth. But these have no need of eulogy or praise, since every busy factory and every commodious home testifies to their worth; then let this sketch be concluded with a brief allusion to one whose simple record, though one of the curiosities of the town, and containing an epitome of instructive history, will excite no man's envy and pique no family pride.

In the old-burying ground in the north part of the town—the first cemetery in the region—is a headstone marking the grave of a pious negro slave, on which is rudely chiselled the following inscription:—

Here lies the best of slaves, Now turning into dust; Caesar, the Ethiopian, craves A place among the just.

His faithful soul has fled To realms of heavenly light, And, by the blood of Jesus shed, Is changed from Black to White.

January 15, he quitted the stage, In the 77th year of his age. 1780.



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ART IN BOOK ILLUSTRATION.

BY CHARLES E. HURD.

Books, books, books! Their number, variety, gorgeousness of bindings, and wealth of illustration confuse the visitor who at this season wanders through the bookstores of a great city, whether aimlessly, or with the design of purchase. Books stare at him from the long rows of shelves; books are piled in reckless profusion upon the counters; they protrude from under the tables, as if vainly seeking to hide themselves there from insatiable buyers; they bulge through the broken paper of packages in corners; they crowd themselves into the windows, where the boldest and most gorgeous display themselves as if calling to the passers-by to come in and purchase.

One cannot help wondering, sometimes, where all these books come from. Who are their makers? What reason is there for their existence? Under what circumstances were they thrust upon the world? For, really, eight out of ten count as nothing in the literary race for fame or money. Either the publisher or the author—nowadays, as a rule, the latter—must suffer. The book—representative of the hopes, the wearisome labors, and, sometimes, of the brains of the author—leaps into being with the air of "Who will not buy me?" which soon changes into that of "Who will buy me?" and goes out finally to stand at the doors of the second-hand bookstores on a dirty shelf, to get its covers blistered in the sun, its binding dampened by the rain, all the while shamefully conscious of the legend displayed above,—"Anything on this shelf for 25 cents."

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There are, however, books that achieve success, and that publishers thrive upon. Books that are "a joy forever," companions, counsellors, and friends, the value of whose printed pages is aided and added to by the hand of the draughtsman, and in which text and illustration harmoniously blend to make the perfect book.

It speaks well for the growing taste of the American public that these books, whose cost of manufacture often reaches many thousands of dollars, always meet with popular favor, and so exacting has the public taste become that no publisher of reputation dares leave a stone unturned in the carrying-out of any literary project in which illustration bears part.

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It is only by putting the work of twenty years ago by the side of that of to-day that one can realize what wonderful strides have been made in every department of bookmaking, more especially in that of illustration. The art of wood-engraving has been carried, one could almost say, to perfection. In its marvellous capability of imitation it has, perhaps, lost individuality, but it has proved its adaptability to the production of the most diverse and beautiful effects. In the hands of artistic workmen,—for an engraver must nowadays be an artist as well as a workman,—a wood cut may imitate a true engraving, an etching, a mezzotint, a charcoal or crayon drawing, or even the wash of water color, or india ink. One with some theoretical knowledge of the art will find wonderful opportunities for study in some of the holiday volumes of the present season, which show the latest developments of the skill of the engraver, and the different methods of producing effects.

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Let us stand here at the counter in one of our largest bookstores, and turn over the pages of a few of the books which lie nearest. First at hand is Childe Harold, the latest in that admirable series of gift books which includes The Princess, Owen Meredith's Lucile, and Scott's Lady of the Lake. How charmingly everything is balanced in the making of the book,—type, margin, binding, and what we are now specially considering, illustration. How full of atmosphere are the landscapes, and how clear and perfectly kept their values! Look at the exquisite little wood scene on page 123, with the foreground in shadow, and a bar of sunshine lying across the middle distance. And here, in a totally different subject, a view of Stamboul, where the engraver has had to deal with land, water, and sky,—how cleverly he has managed to bring each part of his picture into its proper relations with the others, and yet how simply it is done! Changing from landscape to figure, take the ideal head, "Ianthe," which one might imagine was drawn, feature by feature, from the portrait of Byron, which forms the frontispiece of the volume. It is an example of what perfect knowledge can achieve on the part of the engraver,—delicate and yet strong in its way, soft without being indistinct, every line being made to fulfil its purpose and nothing more.

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Here is another volume from the same house, "Tuscan Cities," which shows the capabilities of wood-engraving in quite another direction. Some of the illustrations might absolutely be taken for etchings, so faithfully have the peculiarities of the artist been followed. Compare the treatment of "The Tower of the Mengia" with that of the pictures already mentioned, and mark the difference of effect.

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Here is another exquisite holiday volume,—"Heroines of the Poets,"—which will further exemplify what we have been saying. It has been made up of a series of pictures by Fernand H. Lungren, with accompanying text. Any single picture will serve as an illustration. For instance, this of Ellen, in "The Lady of the Lake," a subject of unusual difficulty, and requiring unusual skill for its proper management. It needs no second glance to see how perfectly the engraver has triumphed over his difficulties. Or, select at random any of the illustrations in this second volume from the same publishers, "Ideal Poems." One of the best, perhaps, is Henry Sandham's vigorous illustration of Browning's poem, "How they brought the good news from Ghent to Aix." The sunburst over the eastern hills, the cattle black against the light, the panting horses and their eager riders, and the rolling clouds of dust,—the character of each and all, as portrayed by the artist, is perfectly rendered.

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Elbridge Kingsley has acquired reputation for engraving directly from nature, without the intervention of brush or pencil. One may judge of the results of his work by the plates in Whittier's "Poems of Nature," issued as a special holiday volume the present season. The pictures vary in merit, but they all show what the skilled workman is capable of doing with block and graver.

Here is another volume of the season, an exquisite edition of "The Favorite Poems" of Jean Ingelow, from which we copy two pictures as admirably illustrating a phase of wood-engraving especially pleasing and attractive. The first, from "Songs of Seven," has the advantage of being a charming subject in itself, but the engraver has been as conscientious in his work as if he had no such aid, and the result is doubly satisfying to the eye. The other, from "The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire," is equally gratifying and artistic.

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RICHARD AND GAMALIEL WAYTE, AND SOME OF THEIR DESCENDANTS.

BY ARTHUR THOMAS LOVELL.

The records of Boston, beginning with the year 1633, and for many years thereafter, contain frequent references to Richard and Gamaliel Wayte, brothers, born in England, the former in the year 1596, and the latter in the year 1598. A writer in the Boston Transcript (Dec. 6, 1874) makes the ancestry of these brothers common with that of Thomas Wayte, who was a member of the English Parliament in Cromwell's time, one of the judges who condemned Charles the First to death, and who signed the warrant for his execution. Be this as it may, the records show that the brothers Richard and Gamaliel were admitted to the church in Boston in 1634 and 1633 respectively, thus establishing the fact of their residence here at that early date. Tracing their history chronologically, the name of Gamaliel, the younger brother, appears first on the list of Freemen, in 1635. Nov. 30, 1637, he was disarmed because of his sympathy with the views of Mr. Wheelwright and Mrs. Anne Hutchinson. His occupation is inferred from the fact that in company with other fishermen he petitioned the court at Salem, Oct. 14, 1657, "for exemption from training in the fishing season." In 1670 he received from the General Court a grant of a half acre of land in Boston, on the south side of "Sentry Hill," to plant and improve; and in 1673 he was part owner of Long Island in Boston Harbor. Mention is made in 1677 of his son John, his daughter Deborah, and his grandchildren Ebenezer and Richard Price, the children of his daughter Grace. From an entry in the diary of Judge Sewell it is learned that he died suddenly, Dec. 9, 1685, aged 87 years.

His son John, born in 1646, after long experience as a member of the General Court of Massachusetts, was in 1684 made Speaker of the House of Representatives. He was eminent in his day among Boston business-men, was a witness to the will of Governor Leverett, was one of the sureties on the bond of Emma, widow and administratrix of the estate of Moses Maverick, of Marblehead, in 1686; succeeded to his father in the ownership of a portion of Long Island in Boston Harbor, and in 1694 sold "Beudal's Dock," then in his possession. His wife Emma (nee Roberts), upon his death in 1702, was appointed executrix of his estate.

From John, and other descendants of Gamaliel Wayte, are traced the Watertown, Medford, and Brookfield branches of the family, whose representatives are found in all parts of the United States. A memorial of the last named branch is found in the historic "Wait Monument" at Springfield, Mass., erected in 1763 to mark the old "Boston Road." It appears that Mr. Wait, mistaking his way at this point, nearly perished in a snow-storm, and erected this waymark for the benefit of future travellers. It is about four feet high, two feet broad, and one foot thick, and, beside Masonic emblems, bears two Latin inscriptions,—"VIRTUS EST SUA MERCES," and another, of which only the word "PULSANTI" remains. Beneath are the words,—

BOSTON ROAD. THIS STONE IS ERECTED BY JOSEPH WAIT, ESQ., OF BROOKFIELD, FOR THE BENEFIT OF TRAVELLERS, 1763.

The stone is of a dark red, similar to the Long Meadow stone, and is supposed to have been cut by Nathaniel Brewer. By a singular coincidence, it marks the spot where the celebrated "Shay's Rebellion" culminated in an encounter between the insurgents and the Springfield militia under General Shepard, and bears upon its face the scars of the opposing bullets.

Thomas, one of the Malden descendants of Gamaliel, removed to Lyme, Conn., about the year 1700, where he married, in 1704, Mary Bronson, a granddaughter of Matthew Griswold, the ancestor of a family distinguished in American history. Remick, a grandson of the Thomas last referred to, married Susannah Matson, whose sister was the mother of Connecticut's noble war governor, Hon. William A. Buckingham. The first child of Remick and Susannah (Matson) Wait, born in Lyme, Feb. 9, 1787, was Henry Matson, who, when of legal age, restored to the name the final letter, which had been for some time omitted by many of the descendants of Gamaliel Wayte. Henry Matson Waite was fitted for college at the academy in Colchester, and graduated at Yale with distinction, in 1809. He studied in the office of Gov. Matthew Griswold, and his brother, Lieut.-Gov. Roger Griswold; became a lawyer of marked ability; was repeatedly made a member of the legislature; in 1832 and 1833 was a member of the state senate; in 1834 was made associate of the supreme court of Connecticut; and in 1854, by the almost unanimous vote of the legislature, was elevated to the position of chief justice. He held this office until 1857, when he retired, having reached his seventieth year, the legal limit as to age. He died Dec. 14, 1869, full of years and full of honors. His wife, married in 1816, was Maria, daughter of Col. Richard Selden, of Lyme, and granddaughter of Col. Samuel Selden, of the revolutionary army. By her he had eight children. The first born of these was Morrison Remick, the most distinguished of the members of this old and honorable family.

Hon. Morrison Remick Waite, LL.D., Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, was born in Lyme, Conn., Nov. 29, 1816. He graduated with distinction from Yale College in 1837, in a class which included Hon. William M. Evarts, Edwards Pierrepont, and Prof. Benjamin Silliman, Jr., and began the study of law in his father's office. He finished his studies, preparatory to admission to the bar of Ohio, in the office of Samuel M. Young, in Maumee City, in that state, and, on his admission, formed a partnership with Mr. Young. In 1840 the firm removed to Toledo, and there continued their law-partnership until Mr. Waite's youngest brother, Richard, who graduated at Yale College in 1853, was admitted to the bar, when the brothers formed a new partnership, which existed until the senior partner received his present appointment. He was married Sept. 21, 1840, to Miss Amelia C. Warner, a resident of his native town. He received the degree of LL.D. from Yale College in 1872, and, a year prior to his appointment as chief justice, was admitted to the bar of the United States Supreme Court, on motion of Hon. Caleb Cushing, whose name was subsequently spoken of in connection with the office of chief justice. It was not until 1849 that Judge Waite, as he was called by courtesy, occupied a public position. He was then elected a member of the Ohio House of Representatives for the sessions of 1849 and 1850. Although frequently urged to allow the use of his name as a candidate for Congress, and other positions, he subsequently declined to hold office. On two or three occasions, he was offered a position on the supreme bench of his adopted state, offers which he also declined. The esteem in which he was held by the citizens of Ohio is marked by the fact that he was unanimously chosen as the representative from Toledo in the Ohio Constitutional Convention in 1874, of which body he was made president.

In 1871, as is generally known, Mr. Waite was appointed one of the counsel in the matter of the Alabama claims, to prepare the case of the United States and present the same before the Court of Arbitration at Geneva. While the most prominent part was assigned to the senior counsel, Mr. Cushing, it is the opinion of those familiar with the arguments, including Mr. J. C. Bancroft Davis, that Mr. Waite contributed in a very large degree to the success of the case of the United States, and thus to the peaceful settlement of long standing and bitterly contested questions of the gravest national concern. A writer in the Boston Evening Transcript, date of Dec. 6, 1874,—Mr. A. H. Hoyt, to whom we are indebted for many of the facts here recorded,—very accurately describes the characteristics of the chief justice at that time as follows: "He has the reputation of possessing a vigorous intellect, which very readily and clearly grasps the facts and the law of a case. He has a sound and well-balanced judgment and a large share of practical common sense. He is blessed with robust health, is industrious in his habits, and possesses an equable temper. His appointment was not prompted by motives of party or political policy. He will enter into his office untrammelled by close political alliances, and free from the biases and prejudices engendered and fostered by party spirit and party contests." The truth of these words has been more than proven by the dignity, ability and impartiality with which Mr. Waite has filled his high office,—an office in the esteem of many the most important and honorable in the gift of the American people. In Washington, as in Toledo, Mr. Waite's home is one of unostentatious comfort rather than elegance, commendably in contrast with those of many men at present prominent in political circles at the national capital. His home and private life may be said, in brief, to present a notable example of the simplicity, quiet dignity, and domestic virtues which should characterize the home and life of a republican citizen in exalted station. Those who have enjoyed familiar acquaintance with him speak of him as affable, thoroughly unaffected, as a good conversationalist, well informed in history, literature, philosophy, and the sciences, and as a close student of social, financial, and all political questions of the day. His interest in these respects is evidenced by his connection with the management of the "Peabody Fund," as a trustee, and with the important non-partisan movement in the direction of political education recently inaugurated by the American Institute of Civics, a corporate institution, national in scope, of whose advisory board he is president.

Judge Waite was married to Miss Amelia C. Warner, of Lyme, Conn., Sept. 21, 1840. Mrs. Waite is a woman of fine mind, engaging manners, and great force of character, and is in every way worthy of the position in life to which her husband's distinguished abilities have exalted her. Of their living children all save one—Miss Mary F. Waite, highly esteemed because of her personal qualities and her deep interest in philanthropic and charitable work—have gone forth from the home roof to occupy honorable positions in homes of their own. Judge Waite and family are communicants and active co-operators in the work of the Protestant Episcopal church.

We have traced the descent of the Hon. Morrison R. Waite to Remick, a grandson of Thomas and Mary Bronson Wait, of Lyme. Among other grandsons of Thomas was Marvin, who became a noted member of the Connecticut bar, having his office in Lyme, where he was a partner of Gen. Samuel Holden Parsons, a nephew of Gov. Matthew Griswold. Marvin Wait was a member of the electoral college chosen after the war, and cast his vote for Washington. He was nineteen times made a member of the Connecticut General Assembly, was several years judge of the county court, and was one of the commissioners for the sale of the state's land in the northwestern territory. Judge Marvin Wait was the father of that honored citizen of Connecticut, Hon. John T. Wait, LL.D., who was born in New London, and graduated at Washington (now Trinity) College, Hartford, in 1842, held the office of state attorney in 1863, headed the electoral ticket cast for Lincoln in 1864, was elected to the state Senate in 1865, and in 1866 presided over that body. In 1867 he was speaker of the national House of Representatives, and from that time to the present has been almost regularly returned to that body, where he has a recognized position as one of the ablest, most upright, and most influential of its members. He is familiarly known in New London, where, with his family, he has always resided, as "Colonel Wait," and is not merely esteemed, but beloved, by his fellow-citizens of all parties and creeds.

From these notes concerning Gamaliel Wayte and his descendants we now turn to his elder brother Richard.

Richard Wayte was born in England in 1596. His name first appears upon the colonial records Aug. 28, 1634, when, at the age of thirty-eight, he was admitted to the church in Boston, his younger brother, Gamaliel, having been admitted in the previous year. It appears that he took the freeman's oath March 9, 1637, and that November 30 of the same year, in company with his brother Gamaliel, he was found guilty of too much sympathy with the religious views of Mr. Wheelwright and Mrs. Anne Hutchinson, and by a judgment very suggestive of the church militant, was thereupon sentenced to be disarmed. This enforced retirement to the walks of peace was of brief duration, as in 1638 we find him an active member of the "Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company." In 1640 he united with other residents of Mt. Wollaston in a petition for the formation of the town of Braintree. In 1647 he was sent as an officer with a message to the Narragansett Indians, and went on a similar errand in 1653. In 1654 we find him occupying the honorable and difficult position of marshal of the Massachusetts colony, a post which he seems to have filled to the satisfaction of the colonists for many years, and in which he was succeeded, as will be seen, by his son Return. In the same year (1654) he took an important part in an expedition against the Narragansett Indians. October 20, 1658, on account of services in the Pequot war and elsewhere, he received from the General Court a grant of 300 acres of land, "in the wilderness between Cochituate and Nipnop, 220 acres on a neck surrounded by Sudbury River, great pond, and small brook, five patches, 20 acres meadow, and 60 acres on northeast side Washakum Pond," all now included in Framingham, Mass., and a part of which is supposed to be now occupied by the Lake View Chautauqua Assembly, whose Hall of Philosophy stands on the summit of the elevation still known as "Mt. Waite." In 1659 Marshal Wayte was voted L5 from the public treasury in recognition of "his great and diligent pains, riding day and night, in summoning those entertaining Quakers to this court." October 16, 1660, his prowess was recognized by an appointment as "governor's guard (John Endicott at that time occupied this position) at all public meetings out of court."

From these fragmentary records we learn enough to indicate that the first marshal of the Massachusetts colony was a man of no ordinary character. His was a semi-military position, devolving upon him, not only the duty of executing the ordinary behests of the General Court, but of acting an important part as an aid to the governor in devising means for the defence of the colonists against their Indian foes. Marshal Waite was proprietor of a tailoring establishment, and an owner of real estate on Broad Street. He was twice married, and was the father of fourteen children—eight by his first wife, who died in 1651, and six by his second wife, Rebecca Hepbourne. Of these, three died at an early age; two (Nathaniel and Samuel) are not mentioned in their father's will; of the eight remaining, three only were sons. These, Return, Richard, and John, each married and left children. Return, one of the sons of Marshal Wayte, born in 1639, was an officer in the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, was his father's successor as marshal, and also succeeded to his father's business. It appears that in 1679 he imported "part of the show that appeared at Gov. Leverett's funeral," taking a personal part in the ceremonies. He died in 1702, aged sixty-three years. He had seven children by his wife Martha. The name of his first born, Return, is connected with the romantic story so charmingly told in "The Nameless Nobleman," a book published by Ticknor & Co. He married, in 1707, the heroine of this book, Mary, the wife of the nobleman, Dr. Francis Le Baron. Thomas, his second son, born in 1691, was a well-to-do shopkeeper, owning land on Leverett's Lane, Queen Street, Cornhill, and elsewhere, including a tenement on King Street, known as the "Bunch of Grapes." He was for twenty years or more a deacon in the first church, to which he left, in his will (proved in 1775), a silver flagon with twelve shillings for each of its poor.

The third son of Marshal Return, and grandson of Marshal Richard, was Richard Waite, third of the name, born Oct. 21, 1693, and married to Mary, daughter of John Barnes, in 1722. He was a resident of Middleboro, in 1715; Taunton, in 1718, and afterward of Plymouth, save for a short time, when he purchased a residence on Leverett's Lane, paying for the same L3,700, owning also other property on Cornhill. He conducted a profitable business as a merchant in the coasting trade, and was himself for many years captain of a vessel plying between Plymouth and New London. He had eleven children, three sons and eight daughters. Of these Richard, the fourth of the name, was born in Plymouth, Oct. 6, 1745. Members of the family having previously gone to Vermont (giving a name to Waitsfield), Richard, after a brief residence in Boston, removed to that state, settling at Bennington, and from there went to the pioneer region in the "Black River Country" in New York, settling at Champion. He married Submit Thomas, at Hardwick, Mass., in 1747, and had nine children, four of them sons. Of these, James, born at Bennington, Vt., May 13, 1789, married at Dummerston, Vt., Esther L. Coughlan, who was the daughter of an Irish gentleman, and a woman of fine culture and great personal attractions. He spent the chief part of his life upon the estate in Champion occupied by his father.

Of his seven children, one, Rev. Hiram Henry Waite, M. A., born Aug. 13, 1816, lately pastor of the Waverly Congregationalist Church, Jersey City, N. J., and now of the Congregationalist Church, Madison, N. Y., is well known among Congregational clergymen as an able, faithful, and successful minister, his services, wherever he has labored, having been signally blessed in every way. He married in 1843 S. Maria Randall at Antwerp, N. Y., by whom he has now living three daughters and one son, Henry Randall Waite, Ph. D., of West Newton, Mass., who is prominent among the younger representatives of this ancient New England family. On the maternal side his descent is traced from the Randalls and Carpenters of New Hampshire, stocks from which have sprung many notable men. Both his paternal and maternal grandfathers were soldiers in the war of 1812; his ancestors were also active participants in the war of the Revolution, and at a still earlier date, as we have seen, participants in the wars with the Narragansetts and other Indian tribes. To his Puritan ancestry we may trace his sturdy independence, his originality, and persevering industry; while to his Celtic progenitors may be due something of his generous and genial nature. He graduated in 1868, at Hamilton College, with an excellent reputation as a scholar and thinker; and in the same year became one of the editors of the Utica Morning Herald, where his abilities as a critical and literary writer soon gained recognition. Subsequently he studied theology at Union Theological Seminary in the city of New York, and in 1872 visited Europe.

He supplied the pulpit of the American Chapel in Paris for a short time, and afterward visited Rome, where he was invited to assist in the establishment of what became under his labors a flourishing and useful church for resident and visiting Americans, the first for English-speaking people tolerated within the walls. In the pastor's parlors, facing the windows of the Propaganda Fide, many notable assemblies were gathered. Here were taken the first steps toward the organization of a union of the Sunday-school forces in Italy. Here were held important meetings of the Italian Bible Society, and here was organized the first Young Men's Christian Association in Italy, its members including Italians of every evangelical faith. He established a Bible training school for Italian young men, so planned as to secure the approval and co-operation of Italian ministers of every denomination, and was also instrumental in the establishment of a school among the soldiers of the Italian army stationed in Rome, out of which grew a church, composed wholly of men in the military service, its creed being that of the Apostles. Many persons, native and foreign, assisted on the occasion, memorable in the history of religious progress in Rome, when the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered to these modern soldiers of Caesar's household. This work has been efficiently continued to this day under other direction, and thousands of ex-soldiers in all parts of Italy have borne with them to their homes the influence of their Catholic Christian training in the Scuola of the Chiesa Evangelica Militare.

Dr. Waite's inquiries early led him to look upon sectarianism as one of the most serious obstacles to the progress of evangelical truth in Italy, and to the belief that the presentation of a united Christian front, in agreement upon the fundamental truths of the gospel, was essential to that influence upon the mind which would bring the most hopeful elements among the Latin peoples into practical unity with Protestant Christianity. He therefore energetically espoused the cause of Christian unity, of which the church in Rome, in its ingathering of worshippers of all creeds, was made a notable example.

In 1875 he returned to the United States, and, resuming editorial work, was for a time editor of the New Haven Evening Journal, and then of the International Review, in New York, in both of which positions he added largely to his reputation as a scholar, thinker, and trenchant and graceful writer. In 1876 he received from the University of Syracuse, pro causa, the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, and was at the same time invited to become a non-resident professor of Political Science in that institution. He had previously accepted a call to the pastorate of the Huguenot Memorial Church at Pelham on the Sound, where he purchased an estate known as "Bonny Croft," and in the midst of most congenial surroundings remained until 1880, when, upon invitation of Gen. Francis A. Walker, superintendent of the Tenth Census of the United States, he undertook the direction of the Educational and Religious Departments of the Census.

Dr. Waite has an acknowledged position as one of the most accomplished statisticians and most thoroughly informed educational authorities in the United States. Doubtless in recognition of this fact, at the Inter-State Educational Convention held in Louisville in 1883 and composed of delegates appointed by the governors of the several states, he was invited to deliver the opening address, a paper on the Ideal Public School System, which was characterized by the Chairman of the convention as "one of the best ever read before a like body." Aside from editorial work he has furnished frequent contributions to various periodicals, and has gained a special reputation as a writer upon politico-economic subjects. Two of these contributions recently published in the form of a brochure by D. Lothrop & Co., under title of "Illiteracy and Mormonism," have attracted especial attention among those interested in these important questions. When residing in New York he was President of the Political Science Association, and Chairman of the Executive Committee of the National Reform League, one of the pioneer organizations for the reform of the civil service; and while residing in Washington was president of the Social Science Association of the District of Columbia.

Dr. Waite is a logical, fluent and earnest speaker, and his reputation as a student of educational and social problems has led to a frequent demand for his services on the part of committees concerned with legislative questions, and at assemblies of leading educators. He presided and delivered an address at one of the sessions of the National Educational Assembly at Ocean Grove, in 1883, and in an address at one of the meetings of the National Educational Association at Madison, Wis., in 1884, following Mgr. Capel, to whose covert attack upon our public school system he made, as reported in the Chicago Tribune, a temperate but caustic and able reply. At the last meeting of the same association, at Saratoga, he delivered an address upon the Tenure of Office and Compensation of Teachers, which is characterized by the Iowa School Journal as one of the specially fine papers of the occasion. In connection with his editorial labors, he discharges the duties of President of the American Institute of Civics, an organization lately incorporated, "for the purpose of promoting the study of political and economic science and so much of social science as is related to government and citizenship"; the aim of the institution being to secure, in every walk in life, a more thorough preparation for the duties of citizenship. Notable among the officers of this worthy institution are Chief Justice Waite, Senator Colquitt, Hon. Hugh McCulloch, President Porter of Yale College, President Seelye of Amherst, Senator Morrill of Vermont, Hon. John Eaton, U. S. Commissioner of Education, Hon. Carroll D. Wright, Hon. Mellen Chamberlain, D. C. Heath, Gen. H. B. Carrington, Daniel Lothrop, and Robert M. Pulsifer, with hundreds of members of equal eminence.

Dr. Waite has had several invitations to accept important positions in connection with educational institutions, none of which he has thought it advisable to accept.

The Boston Transcript, not long since, noted the fact that prominent friends of Middlebury College had presented his name in connection with the office of President of that institution, and added: "Whether Dr. Waite will accept the position, if elected, we are not informed, but of his qualifications there can be no doubt. Graduated from a kindred institution, he is a firm believer in the usefulness of the smaller college.... To his other qualifications are added the executive skill and indomitable energy which are needed to place Middlebury College upon the footing with similar institutions to which its honorable position in the past so justly entitles it."

Among other labors, he is preparing for early publication by D. Lothrop & Co. a work upon the Indian Races of North America; and is also Secretary of the Inter-State Commission on Federal Aid to Education. Few men have a wider circle of devoted friends among educated young men, a fact in some degree accounted for by the ready and helpful sympathy and practical wisdom with which he responds to the numerous demands made upon him for aid and counsel, by those who are perplexed as to the choice of a calling or are seeking entrance to some field of labor. There are many such, within the writer's knowledge, who owe him debts which they will never cease to acknowledge with gratitude. An evidence of the esteem in which he is held by college men, is afforded by the fact that one of the oldest of college societies, with chapters in twenty or more leading colleges, including Harvard, Brown, Cornell, Williams, Hamilton, etc., chose him as orator at its semi-centennial anniversary, observed in September of last year, in the Academy of Music, in New York.

To these notes relating to a family whose history is so linked with the beginnings of colonial life in Massachusetts, we append the following inscription from one of the three tombs of Marshal Wayte's family, still standing, in good preservation, in the old King's Chapel Ground, on Tremont St., in Boston:

RICHARD WAYTE

Aged 84 years

Died 17 Sept. 1680



COLONEL CHRISTOPHER TOPPAN.

BY ONE OF HIS DESCENDANTS.

In the May number of the Bay State for 1884 is an article on the promontory Boar's Head, and the adjoining town of Hampton, New Hampshire, which contains a mention of Colonel Christopher Toppan, who employed in his time many men there in boat and ship building, and in other branches of industry. He was a man so strongly marked in mind and character, and so identified with the local prosperity of his day and generation, that some further facts about him may be noted.

Christopher Toppan was the son of Dr. Edmund Toppan, a physician of Hampton, and the grandson of Dr. Christopher Toppan, a Congregational minister of learning and ability, settled from 1696 until his death, 1747, over the first church in Newbury, Mass. Christopher Toppan married Sarah Parker, daughter of Hon. William Parker of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and sister of Bishop Samuel Parker of Boston, so many years rector of Trinity Church.

The children of Christopher and Sarah Toppan were Abigail, who died unmarried at the age of ninety-six years; Sarah, who married Dr. Nathaniel Thayer, who had a long and able pastorate, severed only by his death, over the Unitarian Church in Lancaster, Mass.; Edmund Toppan, a lawyer who lived and died in Hampton, N. H.; Mary Ann, who married Hon. Charles H. Atherton of Amherst, N. H.

Of the grandchildren of Christopher Toppan may be mentioned Hon. Christopher S., son of Edmund Toppan, who lived and died a prominent merchant of Portsmouth, N. H. He left his salary as mayor so funded as to furnish every year a Thanksgiving dinner to the poor of the city. As that anniversary comes round, his name may be seen on the walls of the almshouse, with appropriate mottoes of gratitude, and his memory is fragrant to a class of citizens whom, in his life-time, he delighted to aid.

Among the children of Charles H. and Mary Ann (Toppan) Atherton was Charles Gordon Atherton, a lawyer of Nashua, N. H., who represented New Hampshire in Congress, for successive terms in the House and in the Senate. Every year but one from the time he was twenty-one, he had held political office until his sudden death at the beginning of Franklin Pierce's administration in which, had he lived, he would have had, doubtless, a prominent part. He was an ultra and zealous democrat, differing in this respect from the political faith of his fathers; and so strenuous was he in the advocacy of State rights that he introduced into Congress the twenty-first rule against the right of petition—a rule which the efforts of "The Old Man Eloquent," John Quincy Adams, caused to be rescinded. So obnoxious a measure fastened upon Atherton the nickname of Charles Gag Atherton; and many an anti-slavery writer in bitter philippic contrasted his course with that of his grandfather, Hon. Joshua Atherton, who, early in the history of New Hampshire, was an able and fearless advocate of the abolition of slavery.

Two of the sons of Dr. Nathaniel and Sarah (Toppan) Thayer were the well-known successful and liberal bankers,—John Eliot and Nathaniel Thayer of Boston,—whose wise and generous gifts to the cause of liberal education give their names an honored place among the benefactors of the Commonwealth. A younger son, Rev. Christopher Toppan Thayer, was, for many years, a faithful and beloved pastor of the Unitarian Church in Beverly, Mass.

Christopher Toppan was not only shrewd and enterprising in his private business, but a pioneer in every project which would benefit the community around him. He assumed responsibilities, invested money, and hired labor in building the turnpike and other public improvements. He was a leader in matters of religion and education as well as of secular interest. When the Congregational Church and Society of Hampton wished to build a meeting-house, the committee wrote him a letter stating the reasons why a certain valuable and centrally situated piece of land owned by him would be the most advantageous site for the proposed building. His reply was in the laconic style characteristic of his manner of doing good:—

GENTLEMEN,—If you want my land, you may have it.

CHRISTOPHER TOPPAN.

He invited the clergyman to make it his home for a year at his house, thus removing some of the self-denials of an early settlement in a country parish. He did much toward the establishment of Hampton Academy, then a pioneer and very useful institution of the kind in that part of the State, and one at which Rufus Choate and other men of mark fitted for college. He offered to the preceptress also a home in his family, in order that a well-educated and refined woman might find it more pleasant and profitable to teach in the village. The hospitality of his house was proverbial. The old mansion still stands, a large, low, two-story yellow house, with long front and side yards, and a grassy lawn between them and the road, with massive, protecting elms, twice as high as the house in front and around it; spacious barns extend a little in the rear on one side, and a simple old garden of fruit, flowers, and vegetables on the other. This was originally one of the four garrison houses of the town in the old times of terror and defence from Indian incursions; and it would be difficult to find now a more pleasant old-fashioned country house of equal age, with its physiognomy of generous hospitality and unobtrusive refinement and good sense.

Christopher Toppan was an influence in character as well as a stimulus in business to those around him. He taught them to save part of their earnings, to secure as early as possible a piece of land and a home. In few but pointed words he reproved thriftless and idle ways, and his respect and approbation were sought and valued. What Colonel Toppan said upon any matter was quoted and remembered as if it decided the question, long after men left his employment, and had an independence of their own. Nor was the gratitude for his aid and influence always confined to the first generation. Within a few years, two solid men of business sought out Hampton, and inquired especially for the house which formerly belonged to Col. Christopher Toppan. They visited the spot, and looked with reverence at the situation, the trees, the old house, and everything that belonged to it. Their grandfather had come to this country a poor and friendless boy, and at the age of twelve had been taken into the kitchen here to wait on the family. The patience with which his blunders had been borne, and the kindness with which he had been treated, he had rehearsed to his children's children. He was sent to school, and told he must learn to read and write and cipher if he wanted to be a man, but being a dull pupil he was often discouraged, and the Colonel used to call him into the sitting-room, as it was called, and teach him himself in the evening. He gave him a little money for certain extra services on condition he set it down on paper, and saved a little every month. Thus commenced the habits of industry, economy, and exactness which made the subsequent prosperity of the man, who used to recount to his grandsons his early poverty and hardships, the kind home he found, and dwell with grateful pleasure on every trait and habit of the Colonel. "Now, boys," he said, "be sure, when you grow up and can afford it, that you go into New Hampshire and see where I used to live as a boy, and if the house of Colonel and Madam Toppan is still standing, with the beautiful elms and all."

Verily the good men do springs up, they themselves know not where, and blesses, they know not whom.



SOCIAL LIFE IN EARLY NEW ENGLAND.

BY REV. ANSON TITUS.

There is much value in knowing of the past social life of New England. By regarding the ways and manners which were, we are the better prepared for the duties which are. In entering into the labors of others, we should know what those labors were.

At the outset we must regard the singular oneness of purpose in the minds of our New England ancestors. To serve God unmolested was the ruling idea of those who led in the settlement of Boston, Dorchester, Salem, and Plymouth. The hardship of laws and social oppression stimulated many more to join those who came from a religious motive. But those who came, came with a deep purpose to make these parts their home. They brought their families with them. This made the settlers more contented in living amid the new scenes, with privations they had not known. The early settlers in many instances came in such numbers from a given section that they brought their minister with them. There was a great bond of sympathy between those who thus came together. The new communities became as one home. Add to this the fact of the settlers living within a mile of the meeting-house, often meeting with each other on Sunday and at the midweek meetings for town purposes, for the drill of the military companies, and having the same hopes and fears regarding the Indians, we find the common sentiment welded even stronger. The oneness of the New England communities is proverbial. There were rich, there were poor people, and in the meeting-house the people were seated and "dignified" according to title and station; but in spite of these, there was more in the name than in reality. The people were not hedged in by their differences. President John Adams was asked by a southern friend what made New England as it is. His reply is memorable: "The meeting-house, the school-house, the training-green, and the town-meeting." In these, the people were brought together, their common interests were discussed and acted upon. The youth grew up with each other in the schools. The young men stood shoulder to shoulder on the training-green, drilling themselves to defend their homes. In the councils of the town they debated and conducted the business which would accrue to their weal and benefit, and on the Lord's Day they would gather in families to hear the words of the town minister, and before the one altar of the community bow in filial reverence to their God. This frequent meeting with one another and mingling in the same social life made the distinctive type of character which grew up in every community.

The minister and his family were in the front rank of social life. To the people's adviser deference was paid. To the minister, even the smallest of the boys took off their hats. The people of the town may have disagreed with him, still his position in society was acknowledged. He was the educated man of the town. In the early days he was the physician also. The first medical work published in America was by the pastor in Weymouth. It treated of small-pox. Vaccination was met with the strongest of opposition. The clergy opposed what was thought to be a means of intervening the will and providence of God. This discussion had much to do in separating the profession of medicine from the ministerial office. The minister likewise did much of the legal business of the people. Lawyers were rare men until towards the war of the Revolution. There was a dislike towards them—a feeling that they would take advantage of the people's rights. But America owes a debt of gratitude to the young barristers of the Revolution. They were true to the people and their best interests. When John Adams wished the hand of Abigail Smith, the people were anxious lest the dignity of Parson Smith's family would suffer. The next Lord's Day after the marriage he preached from the text, "And John came neither eating nor drinking, and ye say he hath a devil."

The grade in social life, which was largely a name, was shown most in the meeting-house. The seating of families and the assigning of pews was one of the difficult things. The minister and deacons were nearest the pulpit. The boys and colored people were assigned the back pews or those in the gallery. This idea of "social dignity" was brought from the old country, but gave way in the growing oneness of life in America.

The days of the early New Englander were not all dark. There was much of the austere in them, but there was also a grain of mirth and cheerfulness. We must bear in mind that the clergymen were the early historians of the country; and they put much gloom in their writings. The mirthful side of social life was expressed at the parties and meetings for hilarity; for such they often had. The young delighted themselves in each other's company, the same as to-day. The young gent and his lady either walked to the party, or rode on one horse. Parties began in better season than now. The assembly met in the latter part of the afternoon, and the dancing, where dancing was the order, began at about four o'clock. This was truly in good season, but, if our information is correct, they kept even later hours than the parties of to-day.

In Froude's recent "Life of Thomas Carlyle" is a conversation alluding to Thurtill's trial: "I have always thought him a respectable man." "And what do you mean by respectable?" "He kept a gig." A century ago it evidenced pre-eminent respectability to support such a vehicle. It was a wonderful conveyance in the eyes of the ordinary folk. With the coming-in of gigs and carts, where the element of pleasure was sought as well as service, came not alone improvement in vehicles, but the widening and general improvement of the highways. The New England inn was a place of great resort. In the poverty of newspapers, people came here to gain what news there might be. The innholder was a leading man in the community. He got the news from the driver and passengers of the stage-coach, and of the travellers who chanced to be passing through the town. The innholder knew the public men of the country, for they had partaken of his sumptuous dinners, and had lodged at his inn. If the walls of these ancient New England taverns could talk, what stories would they tell; not of debauches alone, but, in the dark and stirring days, of patriotic and loyal sentiments and deeds, whose influence went out for the founding of the nation, and the perpetuity of the blessings of freedom. He who strives to know of early New England, must not look alone to the learning, character and influence of its ministers, but to the manners, life, and influence of the innholders.

The town meeting was the day of days. The citizens of the town met to consult and devise plans for their common welfare. "Citizen" in the very early time meant "freeman," and a freeman was a member of the church; but this interpretation was too confined for the growing diversity in colonial and provincial life. It served well for the time, but new conditions demanded that it be superseded. The property qualification has likewise virtue in it, and the educational test of Massachusetts has much strength. This test is quite limited in the nation; nevertheless, if general, it would be for the saving of many of our political troubles. Election or town-meeting day had its treat. Its cake has left a precious memory behind, and many an old-timed family observes the custom until now. The town meeting was opened by prayer by the town minister, and much decorum and orderliness was observed by the citizens. The day was jovial, however, despite the solemnity attending it.

Prudence and economy had to be exercised, even in the more prosperous days. Little was wasted. There was not much money in the market. To trade, barter, and dicker was the custom. For amusements, the game of "fox and geese," and "three" or "twelve men morris," served well. The mingling of work and pleasure was common. The husking-bee and the quilting-bee afforded sources of much enjoyment. Prudence and economy hurt no one, but the mingling of these in the life of childhood and manhood aids in developing character which makes men and women hardy for the race of life.

The ever-famous New England Primer, small though it has been, was one of the most influential of publications. It was in every home. From it the children learned their A, B, C's. In it were pert rhymes expressing the theology of the people, such as "In Adam's fall, We sinned all"; and the set of biblical questions beginning with "Who was the first man?" The prayer of childhood, "Now I lay me down to sleep," is in its pages. Of songs, most familiar is the

"Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber. Holy angels guard thy bed."

The picture and story of John Rogers' burning at the stake, with wife and nine small children and one at the breast looking on, beholding the martyrdom of this advocate of the early Protestant church, did much to keep alive the bitterness between the Protestant and Catholic churches. The Catechism, known by all, began with: "What is the chief end of man?" Then followed the words of this conclave of divines, the teachings of Rev. John Cotton, which he named "Spiritual milk for American babes, Drawn out of the Breasts of both Testaments for their Soul's Nourishment." We call New England character hardy, stern, and stalwart. Well it might be, by having the teachings of this Primer enforced in men's lives and labors. We may not admire some of the doctrines, but for the times they made the noblest and strongest of men. A trite statement of the late Dr. Leonard Bacon was: "In determining what kind of men our fathers were, we are to compare their laws not with ours, but with the laws which they renounced." So with their theological opinions. Compared with the doctrines they renounced, and not with those of our own era, we recognize in them a strength and vigor of thought and character which will stand the severest test and scrutiny. Steel well heated and hammered is most valuable. But steel can be overheated and overhammered; then it becomes almost useless. The strong doctrines of the earlier New England were too closely enforced, and there came a day—a part of which we live in—which repelled them. The old-time teaching has passed, and a fresher and more potent teaching is supplanting it.

There is something grand in the social life of the good old days. In knowing of it, we better appreciate the blessings of to-day. The ordinary life of the people has in it a fascination which a general knowledge fails to impart. The greatness of New England, however, is not all in the past. New England has given excellent life to the great West, and the far-reaching isles. Its line has gone out through all the earth. The descendants of New England are drawing riches from the prairies, the mines of the mountains, and are creating business thrift in all the rising towns. In all the world, in every commercial centre, in the vessels upon the sea, in every mechanical industry at home and abroad, are those whose keenness and brightness of mind, whose sharpness of ingenuity, and whose warmth of heart are to be traced to the natural blood and descent from those we ever delight to honor.

The social life of to-day is not as it has been. The oneness of the early times is disintegrating. The people seem almost mad in their rush after clubs and societies. The ninety per cent of English descent at the beginning of the Revolution is giving way before the incoming of emigrants from every other nation. The rapid reading, thinking, and living has long since passed the life of former generations. But in this new social order is there nothing rich and abiding? Most truly there is. The millennium may be distant, but a brighter day is dawning, when intellectual activity, stimulated by the studies of the sciences and material things, coupled with the fresher faith quickened by the larger conceptions of the mission of the world's Master, will result in causing the knowledge of the truth and heavenly affection to go to the farthest parts of the earth, and the turning of men to the character which attracteth all.



OBJECTIONS TO LEVEL-PREMIUM LIFE INSURANCE.

BY G. A. LITCHFIELD.

In considering the objections to level-premium life insurance, as at present administered, it will not be assumed that there is not much in the system to commend. It has subserved, and is now subserving, a great and beneficent end.

It is the channel through which millions of dollars have been disbursed to families in the time of their sorest need.

It has encouraged habits of economy, and stimulated the noble resolve to lay by a part of earnings, scarcely adequate to meet present necessity, for a time of greater necessity still.

Thousands of families have experienced exemption from actual want, and thousands more have enjoyed comforts, not to say luxuries, that they would never have known but for the forethought of husbands and fathers who availed themselves of the provisions of life insurance when in health, and with a long life in prospect.

We have no disposition to detract from the excellent results accomplished, and perhaps the severest criticism that can be made upon a system embracing such beneficent possibilities is that it has failed so disastrously to realize them in such numerous instances. While it has carried relief and comfort to many families whose wage-producers have been taken from them by death, it has bitterly disappointed many more who had made it their dependence for such a time of need.

While it has encouraged many a poor man to heroic self-sacrifice in the effort to save the premium required from his scanty wages, it has too often absorbed the products of his toil, and left his children to cry for bread. Such results have been reached sometimes by extravagant and incompetent management, and again by dishonesty and gross betrayal of important trusts. The preposterous claim is frequently made by the advocates of level-premium insurance, when contrasting it with assessment insurance, that patrons of the former system may pay their money with the absolute certainty of securing the benefits for which they pay, while patrons of the latter are placing their hopes upon a rope of sand. We do not hesitate to assert that more money has been actually lost to the people by the collapse of a single level-premium life company that we might name than by all the failures combined that have ever occurred in assessment companies in this country; because, in assessment companies, for the most part, a fair equivalent is rendered from year to year, while in the former large over-payments are required upon the promise of future returns. There have been in the United States some eight hundred level-premium life companies, only about fifty of which are now in existence. It is unnecessary to recall the disastrous ending of such companies as the "Continental" and the "Knickerbocker." It is well known that the former was at one time receiving not far from half a million of dollars annually in premiums through its Boston agency alone, and that the latter, in the midst of seeming prosperity, collapsed so suddenly that millions of dollars of supposed assets disappeared beyond recovery.

The history of the "Charter Oak," with its more than ten millions of assets at one time, its subsequent compromise with its policy-holders at sixty-five cents on the dollar, and its now possible passage into the hands of a receiver,—that functionary at the tail end of a life-insurance company that has so often been the "bourne" whence few dollars have ever returned to the pockets of the unfortunate policy-holder,—is too well known to require rehearsing here. Yet the assertion is brazenly made that level-premium companies alone give insurance that insures; that there is no safety in any other form of insurance, and that assessment insurance, disbursing its millions to the families of our land, is but a temporary craze that will soon pass away.

It is a question that may well be asked: What is the explanation of results so deplorable in level-premium insurance?

That they occur is too well known to admit of question.

That a very large proportion of those who patronize these companies become dissatisfied, not to say disgusted, with their practical workings, there is abundant evidence to prove.

That level-premium insurance does not meet the requirements of the people is shown by the fact that there are only about 600,000 policy-holders in these institutions in a population of about 60,000,000. While lack of confidence undoubtedly deters some from patronizing them, yet there are many other considerations that tend to produce this state of things. To insure in them is attended with too great expense. It is not possible for the average mechanic to save from his earnings a sufficient sum to carry any considerable amount of insurance in these companies. The principles upon which the system is founded are such as to render it needlessly expensive. Experience has shown that for various reasons a very large proportion of the insured do not continue to pay until the maturity of their policy by death, or by limitation of the contract, yet the system requires the payment of a sum which, after amply providing for expenses, computed at a given rate of interest, will amount to the face of the policy at the expiration of the life limit, making no account of gains by lapses nor from a mortality below the expectancy.

The premium includes three items, viz.:—

First, Cost of pure insurance.

Second, The amount to be placed in reserve.

Third, The expense charge.

The cost of pure insurance is about one third of the premium, or perhaps a little less. Now, does any unprejudiced person believe that it is necessary to charge three dollars for the purpose of disbursing to the families of the insured one dollar? Is not any system of insurance properly open to criticism that continues to assume and charge a cost that experience has shown to be so excessively beyond the necessities of the case? We do not overlook the fact that a part of this overcharge is returned to the insured upon certain conditions, nor the other fact, that the proper expense of conducting the business must be provided for; but, after giving credit for both these items, a very large and needless overcharge remains to discourage those desiring insurance from assuming its obligations. This may be more clearly shown in the light of a few facts.

By examining the Massachusetts Life-Insurance Report for 1884, it will be seen that several companies report an income from investments largely in excess of the amount required to pay death-losses. It will be borne in mind that the premium charge includes the amount required for the payment of death-claims, and it is supposed to be, and undoubtedly is, amply sufficient for all purposes in the absence of large accumulations from which to receive such a princely income.

In other words, the companies go on requiring the payment of the same premium from the party proposing to insure, one third of which is for claims by death, when income from investments more than pays this important item.

But it may be said that the surplus returns to policy-holders are proportionately larger, when claims by death are more than met by income from investments. This surely is the result that would naturally be looked for, and which should be realized; but unhappily it is not always the case. The writer holds a policy in one of the companies referred to above, and has paid premiums on the same for some twenty-five years. Judge of his surprise when, three or four years ago, he was called upon to pay 20 per cent in excess of the premium he had been paying for years; and when an explanation was asked, the reason given was that the per cent realized from investments was much less than formerly. Yet this same company more than pays its death-losses by income from investments. This is not an isolated instance.

Many readers of this article have, no doubt, enjoyed (?) a like experience. Is not such a system of insurance fairly open to criticism in its practical workings?

But perhaps the most astonishing feature of level-premium insurance is found in the fact that there is absolutely no obligation assumed on the part of the company, and no power anywhere to enforce an accounting for the vast sums entrusted to it, so long as it can be made to appear that it holds securities in the aggregate to meet the legal requirements of a reserve.

These vast sums of money are paid in by policy-holders without any knowledge of, or means of knowing, the uses to which they will be applied. They know, in a general way, that a part of the premium will be used for reserve, a part for expenses, and a part for losses, but how much will go for each purpose they have no means of ascertaining. The company places it all in a common pot, and can put in the hand of extravagance, of avarice, or of dishonesty, and take out any amount for personal aggrandizement, or for expense of management, so long as it can be made to appear that the legal standard of reserve is maintained. There is absolutely no limit put upon the extravagant conduct of the business. There is no separation of trust funds from expense account. No man who insures in a level-premium life company knows whether such company will use for expenses $5 or $25 for each $1,000 of insurance which he carries. He has the vague promise of a dividend,—falsely so called, for it is really nothing but a return of a part only of his own money which he has paid in excess of what he should have paid,—and this vague shadowing of some possible relief of the excessive pecuniary burden he is compelled to assume if he insures, is all that is given him. There is exhibited here the most astonishing credulity, and, too often, as thousands can testify from sad experience, a misplaced confidence on the part of the insuring public, that seems childlike and puerile in the extreme.

The official reports of Level-Premium Life Companies to the Insurance Departments of the several states show that these companies actually use, for expense of conducting the business, from $6 to $25 for each $1,000 of insurance outstanding. A man carrying $10,000 insurance for his family in these companies must pay on the average, for the expense of the business, about $80 per annum, and if it should be twice or three times that amount he has no redress. Should not these companies stipulate, in every policy, a sum for expenses which could not be exceeded? Should they not separate the mortuary and expense account, and contract with every policy-holder to use, not exceeding a specified per cent of the premium paid, for expenses, and to hold the balance a sacred trust for the payment of claims, the surplus above such requirement to be returned to the insured? To what other branch of business would men apply such unbusinesslike methods as to pay two or three times the value of the article purchased, upon the implied or real obligation of the seller to return, at some time in the future, some part of the overpayment, but with no definite agreement as to how much, or at what time it should be returned? What merchant could maintain his credit for any considerable time if he made his other purchases as he does his life insurance? Life insurance is a commodity to be bought and paid for at a fair market price.

In the earlier history of the business, there were no data at hand to fix its value. Experience of fifty years and more has furnished such data, and its value can now be determined with very considerable closeness, and very far within the charges of level-premium companies. There should be some margin charged above probable cost, as shown by the experience of companies; but such charges should not contemplate nor admit of such extravagant expenses as have, and do now, obtain in level-premium companies. The experience of assessment companies has shown that the business can be done for from $2 or $3 at most, for each $1,000 at risk.

Is there any reason why level-premium companies should not be limited to twice that amount? The recent law governing assessment insurance in Massachusetts requires that in every call for an assessment it shall be distinctly stated what the money is to be used for, and no part of the mortuary fund can be used for expenses. Will any man say that assessment insurance is not in advance of other forms of insurance, in these respects at least?

Another important objection to level-premium insurance is found in the fact that it has drifted away from its primal purpose. Originally it contemplated simple life insurance.

Its intent was to offset, to some extent, the loss incurred by the family in the death of its wage-earner. The death of the father involves the family in a pecuniary loss represented by the amount of his yearly earnings, and if this occur before he has had time to accumulate a surplus above yearly expenses, the hardships of poverty are added to the pain of separation from so valued a friend. Life insurance was intended to come in with its benefits at such a time, as the result of forethought on the part of the father in depositing a part of his savings with the life company. If this simple form of insurance had been adhered to, the temptations to unwarranted and hurtful competition would, in a large measure, have been avoided; but with most level-premium life companies this form of insurance is now largely neglected, and their energies are given to other forms, some of them highly speculative in their character. Contrary to the original purpose of life insurance, banking has been combined with insurance, and people have been taught to believe that they can secure better investments through life-insurance companies than elsewhere. It has never been clear to the writer how such results can be reached, in view of the excessive cost of conducting the business. Any suggestion of this kind, however, is at once met by the reply that the company has an immense amount of money invested, from which it derives a large income.

But whose money is it? Who paid it to the company, if not the policy-holders? Still, if the business were confined to simple endowment insurance in connection with pure life insurance there would be less objection, although banking is properly no part of insurance; but the fact is, a far more speculative business is done, called Tontine insurance. This form may be fitly characterized as the gambling form, inasmuch as the only hope of profit to a few is that the many will be robbed of their savings. Tontine insurance is profitable to the few in just the proportion that misfortune shall overtake those who participate in it. No man would risk large payments with the certainty of losing all if he should fail to make one such payment in a term of years, if he were not tickled by the hope that others would be the unfortunate ones compelled by circumstances to discontinue and lose all, while he would be the exception and profit by their loss.

But he should consider that, even if he persists in paying through the specified term, he is still at the mercy of the company in the division of the spoils. They may use as large a part of the plunder as they please in the expense of the business, and the experience of many will attest that, while for the company it was "turkey," for them it was "crow."

President Greene, of the Connecticut Mutual Life, in a series of able articles, has exposed the injustice of this system, and shown, to the satisfaction of unprejudiced minds, that it is no part of legitimate life insurance. Still, some companies are making Tontine and Semi-Tontine insurance their specialty.

There is one other form of insurance practised by level-premium companies that demands brief notice here. It would seem that to mention it would be to call down upon it public reprobation: we refer to what is called prudential or industrial insurance. The peculiarity of this form is that its patrons are found among the poorest and the lowest classes of our population, and, in the judgment of others than the writer, it appeals to the very worst instincts of those unfortunate people. The insurance is effected upon the lives of helpless infants and children to the amount of one hundred or two hundred dollars or more, ostensibly to provide for suitable burial expenses in the event of the child's death. While, doubtless, in some cases the motive is a worthy one which prompts to such insurance, one's thought shrinks with horror from a contemplation of the crimes which it must, in many cases, suggest to the minds of the low and depraved. How many children are there in our large cities whose lives are not worth even one hundred dollars! How many are there whose death would be hailed as a deliverance from an expensive and unwelcome burden! The simple suggestion is enough to carry with it a sense of obligation to lovers of humanity to see that a premium is not placed upon infanticide and kindred crimes. If such insurance is to be effected at all, which is extremely questionable, it should be under the strictest restraints of law.

Another serious objection to the system is that it necessitates nearly double the cost of even regular level-premium rates, from the fact that weekly collections of five and ten cents must be made by agents employed for the purpose.

Of course a large part of these collections, wrung from the poor, are absorbed in agents' fees, the balance going to the company. The lapses also must be very numerous, and but little benefit is ever realized by those who part with these pittances from their scanty earnings. It is a well-known fact that companies realize very large profits from this business, and in some instances the writer has been credibly informed the expenses of the general business are met by the profits of this branch. This article is written in no spirit of hostility to level-premium insurance; it is simply a criticism upon its defects and its abuses. Properly administered, there is an ample field for the prosecution of its business. There will always be those who will prefer to pay the larger price, for what to them may seem the better form of insurance; but there will be large numbers, as now, who will prefer assessment insurance in reliable companies.

There is an ample field for both assessment and level-premium companies to prosecute their work. There need not and should not be antagonism between the two systems. Each will and should be criticised, but always in a spirit of fairness. To some extent modifications in both systems may be desirable, and doubtless a healthy competition will bring such changes to pass. Perfection is a quality of slow growth, but it should be the aim of those who administer the far-reaching and sacred trusts of either system of life insurance.

Such companies can undoubtedly be made permanent by providing for the entrance of new members at any time in the history of the company at a cost for mortuary assessments substantially as low as in the earlier history of the company. This may be accomplished in either of two ways:—

1. By advancing the rate of assessment with advancing age, by what is called the step rate process, or,—

2. By the accumulation of funds to meet the increased assessments beyond a fair or normal rate.

To say that a company which does not adopt the first of these systems is necessarily "doomed," as was asserted by a recent writer in your columns, is to make a very extravagant claim at least, and one to which the writer of this article would beg to demur. The objection to the plan of step rates is that it is not popular with the people who are the purchasers of insurance.

The company adopting the plan says, "We shall get rid of our undesirable risks, those who are getting old, because the rate of assessment will be so high they cannot afford to pay it." The individual says, "I don't like a plan by which I am to be increasingly burdened as I grow older, and by which it is altogether probable I shall be compelled to sacrifice the savings of years, and lose my insurance at the last."

This practical freezing-out process has never yet been made popular; perhaps it may be in the future.

It is objected to the second method that some will pay more for the same value received than others, and it is therefore inequitable. But there is some inequity in any plan of insurance, and this last has not the element of injustice that would compel the aged and unfortunate to lose the entire savings of years because of unavoidable increasing cost.

Assessments in most companies are graduated so that 800 or 1,000 policy-holders responding to a mortuary call would make a $5,000 policy good for its face, and the income from $2,000,000 at five per cent would pay twenty losses of $5,000 each.

Is it then an absurd statement that an assessment company properly and honestly administered, with that amount invested, can be perpetuated for all time?

Long before the reduction of membership to a number insufficient to pay the face of the policy from direct assessments, the income from the reserve would so lessen the cost that members could not afford to lapse their policies, and new blood could always be secured.



ELIZABETH.[D]

A ROMANCE OF COLONIAL DAYS.

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

CHAPTER XXIX.

ON GUARD.

It was nearly two weeks from the unsuccessful attack upon Island Battery, the fifth and most disastrous that had been made. The morning after it the soldiers, sore over their defeat, had listened sullenly to the shouts of victory from within the French lines. Since then the combined attack by land and sea, planned and eagerly wished for by the two commanders, had been deferred from day to day. But Pepperell was not idle, and he was unable to understand despair. To him a repulse was the starting point of a new attempt. But now, with half his camp in hospital, with French and Indians threatening him in the rear, and the great battlements of Louisburg still formidable, he dared not risk an assault that, if unsuccessful, would further dispirit the army, and might be fatal. He had sent to Governor Shirley for ammunition and re-inforcements, and he had still the resource of sounding away with all his guns, for which, by borrowing, he could find powder and balls. He availed himself of this privilege with a persistence that after the city had surrendered he was able to see had not been useless.

The West gate had long since been demolished, the citadel more than once injured by shot, and as to the city itself, streets of it were in ruin. But Island Battery still held its own and kept the fleet away from the city, the soldiers sickened, and the French governor held out. The incessant cannonade went on until sometimes the men wondered how it would seem not to hear bursting shells. There had been sorties and repulses, and though not much fighting, enough to prove the temper of the men. One day Elizabeth, looking across at a fascine battery where the enemy's fire was hottest in return, discovered Archdale standing in the most exposed position, watching and giving orders with an imperturbable face.

So the siege went on, with brave resistance on one side, and on the other with that invincible determination that makes its way through greater obstacles than stone walls. The weather was magnificent in spite of the fogs at sea that sometimes made it impossible to go from shore to ship. Edmonson lay tossing on his bed in the hospital. He had been badly wounded in the attack, and his feverish mind retarded his recovery. As had been said, he had learned of Katie Archdale's engagement, not through Lord Bulchester, for that was the last thing that the nobleman would have told him, but through a correspondent in Boston to whom he had made it worth while to keep him informed of his lordship's movements.

Edmonson's wound was painful, and his compensation did not come. Nancy, not Elizabeth, was his nurse. Occasionally the latter spent half an hour beside him when her maid was resting or was busy with others, but then, although she ministered to his physical comfort, her mind seemed always elsewhere, often where her eyes wandered, to some private whose suffering was greater than his.

"I wish I had been the worst wounded man here," he said to her one day.

"Why?" she asked bringing her eyes back to him. And then before he could answer, she added: "Your wound is bad enough; you will not get well until you are more quiet. Be a little more patient."

"Patient!" he cried, half raising himself and falling back with a groan. "You are cruel. Patient! with the vision of delight always floating before me, never turning back to look at me or smile upon me. Patient! in torment. Perhaps you would be. Submission is not a constitutional virtue of mine."

"It's being a virtue at all," returned Elizabeth, "depends upon whether we submit to men or to God." If any other lips had spoken the Divine name, Edmonson would have sneered openly. As it was, he lay silent, looking out at the speaker through half-veiled eyes. This tantalizing woman always turned his words into impersonalities. Her power had roused his will to its utmost to make her feel his own. How far had he succeeded, that she would condescend to stay with him when there was no one else to do it and he needed attention? It was because the surgeon would soon be here to look after his wounds and would need help, that she was sitting now, fanning him gently and glancing toward the door of the tent.