sloop-of-war, the Recruit. Having been a blacksmith's apprentice in his native village, he was assigned to duty as armorer's mate. The voyage went well with the youth until, as the vessel approached the West Indies, the supply of water became low. He had good cause to remember that it was Saturday evening, December 12, 1807, when they drew near to what appeared to be an island. Being very thirsty because of short rations of water, and knowing that each member of the crew was entitled to a certain daily allowance of spruce beer, he had determined, with the reckless decision of youth, to slake his thirst. On his own responsibility he drew from the tap two quarts of beer and drank all save a small but tell-tale remainder. The day following the captain discovered what had happened. He drank heavily, and at six o'clock in the evening went on deck and inquired of the first officer the name of the barren island near them. "Sombrero," answered the mate. Then he demanded to be informed if the Recruit had any thieves aboard. He was told that there were two among her crew. Upon his orders his pistols were brought to him and the ship's painter was summoned to his presence and told to paint the word "Thief" upon a large tarpaulin. Then Jeffery was sent for, and appeared without shoes or stockings, as the summons had found him. Next came the cruel command to lower the ship's boat, wrap the boy in the tarpaulin, and immediately transport him to the desolate island, there to be left without food, water, firearms, tools, tinder-box, or aught but the clothes which he chanced to have on at the moment. The men who unwillingly executed this brutal order gave the helpless and terrorstricken lad a pocket-knife, a pair of shoes, and a handkerchief. At daybreak a glance showed Jeffery that the island was a mass of barren rocks. The ship was still in sight, and he yet hoped the captain would relent and send the boat to take him on board. He did not know that one of the lesser officers had interceded for him and had been peremptorily silenced; but, as he saw the Recruit speeding away, he first realized the terrible situation to which he had been abandoned. joined the flagship of the squadron. His cruelty was secretly reported to the admiral of the fleet, who commanded him to return immediately to Sombrero and leave nothing undone to effect the rescue of Jeffery. Two months after he had left the lad to his awful doom, the captain and a large portion of the Recruit's crew landed upon the island. Although every rod of its surface was eagerly searched, all that was found consisted of hosts of nesting sea-birds, the handle of a tomahawk, and a pair of seaman's trousers. The only vegetation upon the vast heap of rocks was a scant growth of shriveled grass, and not a drop of fresh water was discovered. The tomahawk and the tattered garment suggested that the youth had been murdered by visiting savages and his body carried away or flung into the sea. On his return to the flagship the captain reported that Jeffery had doubtless been picked up by a passing vessel. This explanation was accepted by the easygoing admiral, who discontinued all proceedings against his inferior officer. Two years passed, when the dark chapter in the history of the captain was suddenly brought to light by a letter to a member of Parliament, from a person who considered himself the victim of ill treatment at the hands of the admiral. The result was a thorough Parliamentary investigation, a court martial which brought out the facts, and a unanimous verdict dismissing the captain from the service. But this was not the end of the matter. Mr. Cobbett, in his famous "Weekly Register," stirred the press and people of England to an intense interest. A leader in the House of Commons forced the Government to instruct the British Minister to the United States to make a report upon the case. When that document reached London it increased the popular excitement to a tremendous pitch, for it contained the swora statement of Robert Jeffery that he had been rescued by an American vessel and taken to Marblehead, Mass., where he had since been employed and was then living. He gave, with absolute correctness, the date and place of the missing sailor's birth, and the true history of his abandonment upon the island of Sombrero. In his statement he did not, however, enter fully into the details of his deliverAt the Barbadoes the relentless captain ance. This, and the fact that the affidavit was signed with a cross, indicating that its maker was unable to write his own name, brought a most startling and unexpected element of uncertainty into the case, which added fresh fuel to the fire of public interest in the romance. This came in the form of a letter from the mother of Robert Jeffery, still living in his native village. It was published in the newspapers, and contained the statement that she feared that the author of the affidavit from Marblehead was an impostor, and not her son, for the reason that Robert was able both to read and write. The mother also stated that the outcome of the affair was of the utmost possible importance to her, as the disposition of certain property depended upon the establishment of the fact that her son was alive. Mr. Cobbett, realizing the popular admiration of the navy, continued his agitation, and demanded of the Government leaders to know if its care for the interests of the "jolly tars" should be allowed to cease with the discharge of the captain from the service. This compelled immediate action, and a naval captain was sent in his vessel to bring the lad from Marblehead to Liverpool. The return of the ship was the great event of the day, and as soon as the youth reached London he was lionized as if he were a returning conqueror. The wealthy lavished gifts and honors upon him, and the humbler people paid him the homage due to a hero from their own ranks. The pressure of public opinion caused the disgraced captain, who had so contemptuously abandoned the helpless boy to a cruel death, to send his agents to Jeffery and settle upon the latter a snug fortune. This was done upon the agreement that the youth should return to Polperro and live there with his mother. It cannot be doubted that the humiliation of the heartless officer, who was compelled to witness the proud return of the boy in one of her Majesty's ships, which had been specially dispatched for him, gave Robert Jeffery as much satisfaction as did the "peace money " which his former master paid to him. Meantime the mother of the lad was eagerly waiting the appearance of the hero of the hour in her little village home. Her anxiety was intensified by the fact that she had not yet become thoroughly convi was i tween the n his fa identi to P attorr Plym stepfa they Robe runne tened leavin to foll Wh village spent, clangi of der had r he wa was i this f was a on S kind! splend with lawyer undou ment friend The her re ing. fused, tain th as all nigh v Rob island As the m upon to des him to water. clear a to dri found swallo aggrav The that th or eve hour he clambered over the sharp rocks, closely scrutinizing every nook and crevice, but to no avail. Meantime the tortures of thirst increased with each moment, and the most awful fate seemed surely in store for him. The third night, however, brought relief from an unexpected source. A gentle rain fell, and as soon as the light was sufficient to disclose the little pools which had formed in the shallow basins in the surfaces of the higher rocks, he crept forth and eagerly sipped enough of the refreshing rain to partially relieve his distress. But a survey of the field by daylight convinced him that the supply of water in the more open and exposed places would become quickly evaporated, and he must devise some means of securing that which had collected in the deeper crevices of the rocks. The fortunate finding of a large feather dropped by one of the huge gulls with which the island swarmed immediately solved this most important difficulty. With the pocketknife which one of the sailors had given him when he was put ashore, he cut the long quill from the feather and fashioned a "sucker," which enabled him to secure a temporary sufficiency of liquid refreshment before inaccessible to him. No sooner were the pangs of thirst appeased than hunger pressed its demands. He first attempted to kill one of the gulls, but all of his efforts in this direction were futile. Then he searched the shore and rocks for their nests. The one egg which he found was so thoroughly decomposed that he was unable, even in his famishing condition, to eat it. As he wandered along the beach, his limbs trembling from extreme exhaustion, he came upon a quantity of the green bark of a tree which had been washed to the shore. This he chewed, and his terrible cravings were relieved. One morning, while indulging in this vegetarian feast, and looking wearily out to sea, he caught sight of a tiny white speck upon the horizon. His hopes became instantly excited, and, as the speck developed into the distinct outlines of a sail, he felt sure that deliverance was at hand. When the big merchantman approached the island, Jeffery flaunted his handkerchief with all the energy that he could command. But his hope was turned to bitterest despair, for the ship passed on and disappeared from view. Four times was this cruel experience repeated, not one of the vessels giving the slightest heed to his frantic signals. Finally he dropped to the beach, completely overcome with exhaustion and despair. There he was found by the crew of a small American vessel. The vast flocks of gulls which hovered about the island had excited the curiosity of the captain of the craft. The sailors immediately carried Jeffery aboard the ship, where he was tenderly cared for, and finally landed at Marblehead. The sympathetic inhabitants of the famous Massachusetts coast village gave him clothes and employment, and he remained among them until her Majesty's ship came to summon him to England, where he received the honors and good fortune which have already been described. The presence upon the island of the tomahawk handle and the pair of trousers, found by the captain of the Recruit, was never explained. They were doubtless left there by some venturesome fishermen who visited Sombrero after Jeffery had been rescued. Jeffery's signing the paper with a cross was merely a whim. Congregationalists in America' AUCE te ti The last few years have witnessed a revival of interest in all that pertains to the Pilgrim history in and the Pilgrim polity. This revival probably fc dates from the In ernational Congregational Council in London in 1891. Before that, of course, great scholars like the late Dr. Henry M. Dexter had devoted their lives to a study of what may be called the Congregational Origins. But since then the number who have written on this subject has largely increased, and the works have been of a more popular character. On both sides of the water this interest has been growing. Travelers now visit Scrooby, Austerfield, Boston, and the other homes and haunts of the Pilgrims in the eastern counties of England, whereas a few years ago the places from which our fathers came were almost wholly neglected by tourists. The places where the Pilgrims dwelt in Holland have also acquired a new fascination, and are yearly visited by their children, as the old-time shrines have long been visited by those of other faiths. Among recent English writers on this subject may be mentioned first of all Dr. John Brown, of Bedford, whose books, written with great erudition and in a fascinating style, are unsurpassed; also the briefer works of Dr. Mackennal and the Rev. J. Gregory. On this side of the water the chief writers on this subject have been the Rev. E. H. Byington, D.D., the Rev. Morton Dexter, and the Rev. A. H. Bradford, D.D. The most scholarly book on Congregationalism as a polity remains to be mentioned. It is that of Professor Williston Walker, of Hartford Theological Seminary. The most popular treatment of the American side of this subject is the work the title of which is at the head of this article"Congregationalists in America," written by the Rev. A. E. Dunning, D.D., the editor of the Congregationalist." Incomparably the greatest American authority on the Pilgrim polity was the late Rev. H. M. Dexter, D.D., Dr. Dunning's predecessor as editor. What he did for scholars and ministers Dr. Dunning has tried to do for the common people. As a general exposition of the subject which he treats, Dr. Dunning's book is worthy of commendation. It is popular in its style, clearly written, and within the comprehension of the average layman. It does not profess to present original investigations. The scope of the work is indicated by the titles of a few of the chapters. After treating of the genesis of Congregationalism in England and its sojourn in Holland, he takes up among others the following subjects: "Growth and Congregationalists in America. By A. E. Dunning, D.D. The Pilgrim Press, Boston. 01 ti W of ar ha ra th ni St th Sc BI tic th cis no tic old SO ha ma Re B ex ill ha ap or bo on Ou ho rés ca an lar ac ev ori be en the cle to Pil Co ro an worthy of careful study. It should be known in the churches and taught to the children. It is the outgrowth of what Thomas Carlyle has called "The Last of the Heroisms." The achievements of Congregationalists in this country also are worthy of being more widely known, for they are a part of the life of the Republic. The descendants of the Pilgrims were the founders of educa tion in the United States. The Christian college owes its existence to them. They were also the founders of American missions. The greatest evangelists of the American Church, like Edwards, Bellamy, Finney, Kirke, and Mills, were or are Congregationalists. To this day the amount that they raise for missionary purposes in proportion to their membership is far in advance of that of any of the larger denominations. They not only lead in the amount which they give per member, but also, if we mistake not, they are second in the aggregate amount. They have not grown as rapidly as some other denominations because the ecclesiastical spirit has had a smaller place among them. During the action of what is called the "Plan of Union," of which Dr. Dunning treats, large numbers of churches in the Middle States which were originally Congregational became Presbyterian. In the old days it was said that there should be no Presbyterian churches east of the Hudson River, and no Congregational west. That was in the time when it was supposed that the westward limit of the Nation would be the Alleghany Mountains. Since then all has changed, and the denomination has moved swiftly westward. Its members often say that it is a spirit rather than a polity, and they point to the changes which have taken place and are taking place in the other forms of polity as an illustration of the growth of that spirit. Epis. copalian and Methodist Bishops have warned their people against the Congregationalizing tendencies in their respective churches. It is well known that a large proportion of the Presbytetian body is essentially Congregational in its spirit and its methods. One large church in New York never had a Presbyterian pastor. Most of these facts are admirably stated by Dr. Dunning in his book. Cicero and His Friends' To those with whom M. Boissier's "Ciceron et ses Amis" has been a favorite book ever since its publication it has seemed strange that so at tractive and instructive a volume has not before been translated into English. This book takes Cicero out of the well-accustomed niche into which school-boys have put him, out of the eternal environment of orations against Catiline and for Archias, and put him before us, no longer a Cicero and His Friends: A Study of Roman Society in the time of Casar. By Gaston Boissier, of the French Academy. Translated by Adnah David Jones. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York. $1.75. portentous pedagogue, but a human, humane, erring, vain, sensitive, fastidious, philosophical, able, real man. Cicero was perhaps the best type of Cæsarian society-perhaps the best type of Roman society. M. Boissier teaches us so to think of him, not at all as a school-boy drudge. In the brilliant pages of "Ciceron et ses Amis," now so well translated and published, we find no dead figures, but vital, virile, living ones, and among them none more living than Cicero's. There is a gentleness, almost a lovableness, about him, something which ought to belong to every philosopher. If it belonged to one who was at once a philosopher, an orator, and a statesman, it must infallibly have moved the society in which that philosopher and orator and statesman lived, to create an indulgence for him whenever bis judgment was found warped, not to say wanting. Most historians, and especially Professor Momm sen, seem to sum up Cicero's character in the word "vacillating;" and we cannot rid ourselves of the impression that he was often wanting in true nobleness. There is no question that this is the fact with regard to many circumstances of his life; but there are circumstances, too, in which genuine bravery and high-mindedness showed themselves-his championing of Brutus, for instance, a logical outcome of his first great speech, in which a noble temerity was displayed in favor of Roscius. It is not, however, so much as a public man that we find the Cicero of M. Boissier. It is rather on his private character that the learned and brilliant Frenchman loves to dwell. Perhaps we, too, prefer to see Cicero at Tusculum than at Rome; perhaps, after all, we like the letterwriting Cicero best. If we do, and have ever read those letters with a view to reproducing their colloquialism into other Latin letters which we might write ourselves, we find that, however much Cicero the public man may have appealed to us as a Roman of the Romans, he appeals also as a contemporary, struggling with us amidst present conditions singularly like some of those of long ago. Now, from M. Boissier's pages there comes also the knowledge that in his private life Cicero represents many qualities which we have recognized in our own friends of to-day; he embodies these qualities, when he chooses, in a manner so natural that we can no longer regard him as anything but a living entity, speaking to us from his letters and essays and orations in a far different voice than if we had never read M. Boissier's book. One reason for this conviction is the fact that here we have not only a biography; we have biographies. We have Cicero's friends as well as Cicero himself, and so have a sketch of Roman society. Some books which essay to describe the life of a notable man leave upon our minds the impression of a clear-cut but cold statue; but this is no such work--this work has atmosphere, livingness. Not only does Cicero live, but so do his old friend Atticus and his young friend Cælius |