Memoirs of G. B DORR 1853-1865 The Memoirs of George B. Dorr The writings contained in "The Memoirs of G.B.Dorr" files are copies of The Dorr Papers held at The Jesup Memorial Library. An original hard copy is held by the Bar Harbor Historical Society. These fragmented essays were written during the last two decades (1925-1944) of his life. Episodic blindness contributed to their unfinished state. Many are undated and incomplete. None have been published and many are working drafts. Dorr does not appear to have intended that these were parts of an evolving autobiography. They were based on recollections of events that were retold to clerical assistants-often over a dictaphone-- for an unidentified audience. There are several lists of topics to be developed and to be combined into complementary essays. Ultimately they remain fragments of a life gathered here for the first time by an approximated timeframe based on their content. They share "historical associations" with Dorr's published writings (e.g., The Sieur de Monts Publications). Additional memoirs are placed in the subject matter series. See memoirs in the files "France & Frenchman Bay," "Old Farm," "Psychical Research," and "Travel.". filemoirs821 R. H. Epp V Communication Mithesert Mount Desert Ferry. Ferry Running down by train to the Ferry and taking a fast and o omfortable steamboat aoro 8 the Bay, they made a slow trip by waiting for the freight the train had brought and passengers' baggage to be taken on board, was a beautiful in summer experience/and made a splendid approach to Bar Harbor, but at other seasons it was 1ess pleasant. Then Sorrento was included in the trip, both coming and going, and there was delay there also over freight. In zero weather ice collected in the upper bay and the steamer at times had to butt its way slowly through it, and the only comfortable moment for the passenger was when, after a night of travel, a hot breakfast of coffee and fried eggs was served from the galley on the lower deck, with johnny cake at times. Maintaining this steamer service, was expensive to the rail- road, accidents barred, which was thankful when the opportunity came to substitute for it service by bus and truck over a good motor road and a good bridge aoross the Narrows, over which all tolls had been given up. Accidents, too, were possible and costly. The first was when the slip at the Ferry gave way and let the passengers of a local excursion train, crowded upon it, down into the sea with much loss of life. The second, though it might have been serious too, had its amusing side. A popular Captain on the run--his name was Diokson but familiarly and affectionately known as Captain Dick --put a new hand on to steer 2 /Ferry -8 at the wheel. The man was nervous over the responsibility and annoyed Captain Diok by asking too frequent questions as to his course. The Captain told him, leaving the Ferry, the course laid out, to steer straight ahead and he would tell him when to change. The man did 80, looking at the compass, not where he was going --of which indeed there should have been no need. But Captain Dick, occupied with other matters or engaged perhaps in friendly discourse, forgot to give him his new direction when the moment came to change, and at last he did look up and the boat was steering straight as a for its first objective, which was the lighthouse. He had just time to slightly swerve her course toward the shore before she struck, which sheered her off to safe beaching, though not without injury to the vesselwhich was of new make, built expressly for the Bar Harbor summer season trip. Captain Diok was oashiered for six months but his popularity saved him, and presently he was restored to the service and remained upon it so long as boat service across the Bay continued. July 17th, 1938. Text: A Word about myself to string some memories upon. My father was Charles Hazen Dorr, of Boston, the youngest son of Samuel Dorr, a merchant trading in West India goods during his earlier life; and/later, president of the New England Bank which he had taken part in founding, a memberas Representative and Senator of the Massachusetts Legislature, of whomo more is told elsewhere, and of Mary Grey Ward, his wife, daughter of Thomas Wren Ward of Boston, originally of Salem, a sea captain sailing on ships owned by William Grey of Salem, and his father, Captain William Ward of Salem in his early life; then a merchant on his own account in New York and Boston; finally, agent for Baring Brothers in America till the business was taken over by his son Samuel Grey Ward, my mother's older brother; Interestered in public matters awlays, he was treasurer of Harvard College for twelve years and treasurer of the Boston Antheneum Library My father was born in his father's house near the waterfront, looking out over the harbor, a residential section then, in a house his father sobd three years 'after to purchase one on Tremont Street near the foot 2. of Park Street, a residential section also at that time though wholly given up to business now these many years. My father and mother were married on 1850. Buying land soon and building a home for themselves on the eastern shore of Jamaica Pond. A beautiful location fronting through tall trees the sunset v&ew across the lake from the top of a steep bank. There my older brother, William Ward Dorr, and I were born, He in and I on the 29th of December, 1853 during a wild snowstorm through whose deep drifts my father plowed his way on foot to carry the good news to my grandfather Ward then living, with my grandmother, in his Park Street home, my father's parents having died years earlier. So much for introduction. I came into consoious life at three o'clock that stormy morning and have remained in it till now through a period of many changes whose issuance none can see. My brother and were brought up in Jamaica Plains Ward until 1861, when, my grandmother/having died and my grandmother left alone, we moved to Boston, occupying his house on Park Street for a time, then building our own house on Back Bay, on Commonwealth Avenue close beyond the public garden which was our winter home thereafter till my parents had died and I have lived in it alone a dozen years, carrying on the old traditions of hospitality and friendly living a tradition for which the. house had gained a reputation during my parents lifetime. My brother and I were sent, as the general custom day was in these days, to a school, a famous school it was in its time, kept by Dixwell, himself son of an old 6hina merchant of my grandfather's time and from there we went, according again to the Boston tradition of our day, to Harvard College, my brother leaving after two years to study architecture abroad and I, my course interrupted by a muscular trougle in my eyes, when I also a winter abroad with my father, while my brother returned to Beston for a winter with my mother who could not leave herself on account of my grandmother, which did not prevent my taking my A B degree in due course however, my father reading to me while we stayed abroad, history being the subject I had specialized upon for my concluding college years, the elective system having been just introduced by What I would like to tell is of them, the places we visited the books we read, the thoughts that came to us. And to do this rightly I must go back, too, and tell somewhat of the time that went before, when my mother specially was reading actively all that lay within her reach of the poetry of her time, of its religion and new thought, and of the fiction that portrayed its life. It was an extraordinarily XXFRI wide field that opened out to us in this way, sympathetic 88 we were together and living in a great midst of a great period of change and new development. My parents both were born into the midst of what is called the Romantic Period of English literature, a great period compared with any other that I know, the great period in Greeçe apart, and a period of extraordinary change in the world's religious attitude of thinking men and women which in the end must shape the whole world thought. We are producing no great literature today nor are likely to while such rich fields are opening up in science and socialogy. It is enough to live and watch development or take part in them if one feels one make contributions. I am not interested in the detail of facts, whether in the past or present; it is the great fundemental questions that hold my interest, of life and existence. Since my days at Harvard in the early 1870s a vast panorama has been spread before us and we do not know how to interpret it. We cannot go back to the old and we cannot penetrate the two but must wait for it to unfold itself. Philosophy cannot deal with it and it is but an idle word when the attempt is made. The inconceivable envelops us and all we can do is to relate the different aspects of our existence, one within another. The time we spent abroad was rich to me and to us all in its revelation of the past in terms of human experience which includes above all the emotional side of life to which facts are but the frame and the question that continually thrusts itself upon me in these later days is why, but there are none to answer it, few to comprehend the import of the question. The old philosophies do not touch it They revolve in a world of their own making with positive to build upon though I feel that we can certainty that certain things are not. And much. But within our world, foundationness Fire can be positive, and must be positive, values. And values are not material but hence they too spring MHS. Endicott Family Papers. B35.f. 22. (Text after 1816 letters) This house on Park Street, one of the best residences in Boston at that time, looking out west across the Common, became my grandfather's home for the remainder of his life. His home following his marriage to my grandmother had been in Pearl Street and it was in Pearl Street that his and his wife's first children were born, my mother's older brother, Sanuel Gray Ward, being their first child to be born in Park Street. My grandfather prospered so well during his connection with Mr. Goodhue that, with bad times threatening and having had experience of the dangers and uncertainties involved in the business of that period, largely still confined to long sea voyages and the risks connected with them, he decided to devote himself to the good management of what he had and to work of a public nature, to his own satisfaction and bringing him the regard of others. When Thomas Wren Ward began, late in life, as he tells in bis journal of that time, to gather together his early letters and papers, he found many lost, leaving the record fragmentary, with long gaps between. The following letters tell what little we do know of that period, including the attitude he had taken in his mature life on the subject of religion: Insert letters from TWW to Wm.Ward of Nov. 3, 1820, July 30, 1825 [G.B.Don]] Diotaphone - Wednesday evening, May 17, 1939. Notes -- Coastal Maine was originally no coast at all but lay far inland, the anoient coast-line being indicated by the great fishing banks where in places the sea bottom comes BO near the surface that icebergs stand on it and, maiting, drop their loads of stone and gravel, building it up still higher, waves breaking on them here and thereo Soundings show that the whole gulf of Maine and southward to Cape Cod was a forested lowland but recently in a geolggio sense, collected waters, soundings show, flowing out through a deep ravine they touohed between Georges Bank extending northward from Cape Cod and the corresponding present prolongation southward of the great peninsula of/Nova Sootia. Looking out over its waters from the summit of Cadillao Mountain, highest point upon our coast from the Bay of Fundy to the Gulf of Mexico, and wondering what anciently had lain beneath them, I asked a great authority upon ancient life as fossils bring it baok to us where the great ice-sheet, deeply grinding, has spared them, what I could people that forest with in pre-glacial times, and he told me of horses, broad-footed for walking over marshland and living by browsing, not by grazing, broad-leaved in dense forests of/deciduous grees. Transcribed May 16. Continuation of text The gift of the State of Massachusetts, the War the Revolution over, to the descendants of the two former grantees, reealds has in the case of each the interestins of recording the generous recognition of Massachusetts of benefits received, pleasant to meet with in a public body. In the case of the Degrogoires the feeling was distinctly, where no legal claim existed, that of gratitude for the help France had rendered the colonies in their struggle th great Britain in sending over Admir DeGrasse, with a fleet to aid the colonies, Massachusetts especially as a maritime state with already extensive commerce especially appreciated this warmly Im the case of Sir Francis Bernard, it put on record appereciation of the good battle he had made againat strong influences in England to gain for the colony, now become a state, the coast of Eastem Maine, with it s many harbors, its wealth of forest trees, its wealth of fish for salting. It was a greater benefit, looking to the future, than Massachusetts at that time could realize 2 May 16. and which e ven yet can only be understood in part. The new developments of the time are even now swiftly given an importance not to be measured at this time. Marx Men passed swiftly but the results of their actions beeamo-part stayed and have become part of the new present. One sale the DeGregoires made has special interest. It is that of a great tract of the in erior of the Island o f wild, forested lands to William Bingham Bf Philadelphia, said to have been the wealthiest citizen of the time in the United States and investing in forest lands alike in Maine and Western Pennsulvania, some part of which even yet remains in he hands of the Bingham heirs, so-called. His daughter married the young Alexander Baring when he oame to this country for a two years' stay. Later London he became head of the great banking house of Baring Brothers and Company and having received a peerage was sent over as Lord Ashburton, in 1842, to negotiated the delicate bo undary question between the United States and England which had stirred up much angry feeling. All the rugged coast from Oldfarm south was included in the Bigham purchase Oldfarm itself had alread been taken up and cleared when the first Bingham pruchases were made up n Mount Desert Island 3 May 27 last save the and 1t was the Lynam farm Yana at Schooner head to be ocoupied. From Oldfarm west and north the whole shore, on the contrary, was early taken up by hardy colonist soamon all, sailing down from western ports as far as to CApe Codo They are interesting men, these early settlers true ready to turn their hand to Yankee fashion, to whatever came their wayn from ship-building to farming. Downing, Andrew Jackson, born in 1815-52 Am American nurseryman, landscape gardener, and pomologist, born at Newburgh, N.Y. His influence upon American horticultural development is probably unsurpassed. To him must be accredited the introduction and development of the free or English school of landscape gardening in America. He planned the grounds about the National Capitol, the White House, and the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. To his foresight and to his spirit as communicated to others, we owe our present American system of broad free municipal parks. Downing's monumental work, Fruits and Fruit Trees of America 91845) greatly extended by his brother, Charles, together with his mumerous essays, form the buok of his contribution to the literature of horticulture. Another important work is the Treatise on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1841). Those essays were first published in the Horticulturist, of which hewas editor at the time of his death, and afterwards in book form under the title of Rural Essays (1854) for which book George William Curtis wrote a memoir of Downing. He W as drowned while attemptin to save the lives of others on the burning Hudson River Steamer Henry Clay. The gift Oit the State of Massachusetts, the War the Revolution over to the descendants of the two ymer granteear POORLES has in the case of each the of recording the generous recognition Massachusette Oil benefits received pleasant to meet with in a public bodyo T- the a ce of the Degrogotics the feeling was distinctly where no legal.olaf existed that of cratitude GOT the HOLD France had rendered the colonies 134 their struggle St. great Britain the sending over Add DeGrasso methia fleat to aid the colories Massachusett 88 a MATERIALS state with already extensive commerce this warmly C OC SIL Francis Bernard ft put on record Eopereotecon of the good battle he had made again atrong in Sugland to gain for the colony, now a SCOTE Eastern MEMBER with it s wealth OF Forest trees its wealth Tryes E greater benefit looking at that time could PUBTSI qunon wan open OTC ASJTH eut ueum Pedeeto pua an ueeq pretty pay WIBJPTO essyond eun UT popnTouT SBM nos WOTT 46800 pe39nr eye ITV CHUTTOOT Actual yorat dn pay YOTUM pue 802878 penrun eut WT1sonb Arepuroq eu4 07 ' UT Be ques BBW B peateoed Sufary pup pas Sufreg TO esnoy queen eut TO prey eurooeq ou CABAS OMA B BTR oa oureo oq the Supreg SunoA ett POTTEED BTH 'pottoo-os Coxyou am JO epual eq USA EUR med ne ueae TOTUM JO freed TOTAL put OUTEN UT extre spuct ENT SUTTSGALT pue petting are UT OWTA our TO ABOTHATEOM eqt Reeq OAL PFUC JO on spreat PUBTBI em TOSTOTIC 155 OCH PO E AT Turoeds 5.80 optil etter OTBS eur eut JO Rapa euroaeq pus pokage BUGTOOU drett JO eus ang STORIE Court Line 433 permstem aquanting OTH 2010 do that Schooner head to be pooupibally bot and north the whole shore, waszearly taken up by hardy colonist summerically dailing do restern ports as far as interestic mon, these early sett handwritiYankoo fashion, to whate thomas From ship-building to farming. March 7, No 1 My own interest in public reservations had an ancestry offer from that of President Eliot and his son, for it had its root far back in old Salem and Medford gardens and the England fro which they came, whose tradition has come down to us for generations, the early colonists holding here the memory of them as they did of the names of the places whence they came. I loved the beauty and fragrance of flowers, the flowers which once stretched in a broad bolt around the world in the northern hemisphere, whose traces one finds today in strangely separated ies territory of Siberia and northern China, England and northern Europe and our own eastern states from New England to the Hudson. I loved to think of them in t he early days of the flowering plants when t hey came in as a new creation in an ancient and more their barren world, sending forth from-their color standards and their fragrance as the spring came round to attract the insects that fertilized them and then when winter came again drawing to their lives beneath the protecting soil that nourished them and the winter snow. It is a great history and full of charm and the garden that by family truditions take me back to generation after generati on fromthose that I hav known myself Leave-- need no costly architectural setting nor expert care. English cottagers grew them by the wayside in old coaching days and they brought beauty into the bareness of their lives. m b 2. Such thoughts I had in mind when I 8 tarted the Mt. Desert Nurseries on the land of the old farm grant myfather had purchased among the early summer residents on the Mt played in Desert Island shore wheromy mother, who had retent such gardens as a child, made herself the first pleasure garden on the Island, wonderfully not discovered by the humming birds that winter in the south when it bloomed that summer. Mt. Desert grew a wonderful place for gardens of that time, where the hardy p rennial plants we loved 80 we ll, as all folks do who c an plant themselves as did our grandmothers and great- grandmothers back to colonial times, and I wished dreams not realizing the difficulties that such encaunter, taxaprock of spreading the beauty that touched our springs, into the lives of men when they lived among them over the whole coast from the Penobscot north to the St. John. But I had seen, too, alike abroad and in American, the wreckage of great natural landscape by the hotel builder and the private owner and when President Eliot brought out his plan for the protection and saving of our Mount Desert landscape, it made a strong appeal The time fitted well,for it lay between two periods , of the private owner grown suddenly to wealth and thu of the multitude set into movement by the new mechanical age. 3. But for the Government's help and the rapid development at the time/ of our national parks out west, nothing on t he scale required could have been a chieved. Many factors came together and entered into the creation of this first eastern National Park and first of all national parks in America to be created out of private funds , Auxxix development apart. It is a development that the national government may well take hold of in the future, affecting as it does deeply and intimately the lives of men who need to see their world more widely and the possibilities it holds for them, their home life around, But tht time is not ripe for it on the greater scale which will bring the beauty and the interest of nature widely into the lives of men. Cylinders of Monday and Tuesday evening, Jan. 2 and 3. 2. 1 Gardens naturally do not exist within walled cities or castled areas built for defense; no space can be given up to them. But wherever men could expand with safety and residence was settled, there gardens of certain flowers sprang up in earliest time, wherever space was to be had and security counted on. In England, unless in the abbeys destroyed by Henry the Eighth, of which we know too little, gardens can scarce have existed when baron was at war with baron, throughout the land. And gardening as a special art can scarce- ly have existed before Elizabethan days, when within the realm of was active and men accumulated wealth. But from that time on they rapidly progressed and the south coast of England was their earliest home. M What I would like to tell is of them, the places we visited the books we read, the thoughts that came to us. And to do this rightly I must go back, too, and tell somewhat of the time that went before, when my mother specially was reading actively all that lay within her reach of the poetry of her time, of its religion and new thought, and of the fiction that portrayed its life. It was an extraordinarily wide field that opened out to us in this way, sympathetic a8 we were together and living in a great midst of a great period of change and new development. My parents both were born into the midst of what is called the Romantic Period of English literature, a great period compared with any other that I know, the great period in Greece apart, and a period of extraordinary change in the world's religious attitude of thinking men and women which in the end must shape the whole world thought. We are producing no great literature today nor are likely to while such rich fields are opening up in science and socialogy. It is enough to live and watch development or take part in them if one feels one make contributions. I am not interested in the detail of facts, whether in the past or present; it is the great fundemental questions that hold my interest, of life and existence. Since my days at Harvard in the early 1870s a vast panorama has been spread before us and we do not know how to interpret it. We cannot go back to the old and we cannot penetrate the two but must wait for it to unfold itself. Philosophy cannot deal with it and it is but an idle word when the attempt is made. The inconceivable envelops us and all we can do is to relate the different aspects of our existence, one within another. The time we spent abroad was rich to me and to us all in its revelation of the past in terms of human experience which includes above all the emotional side of life to which facts are but the frame and the question that continually thrusts itself upon mG in these later days is why, but there are none to answer it, few to comprehend the import of the question. The old philosophies do not touch it revolve in a world of their own making with build upon though I feel that we can cointy that certain things are not. And much. But within our World, foundationess welves. we can be positive, and must be positive, And values are not material but hence they too spring NOV 1900. 17 ! Royce I had the rare good fortune of having in my father and my mother two people with a delightful gift of narrative. What they told of lived. My father was the more reserved but he had a delightful sense of humor and I find myself still at stories he told me of his youth objectively always, for of his inner self I never heard him talk. It was too intimate and personal. My mother had a wonderful gift of description and drew a wide circle of younger folks about her always when she was in the mood to talk. So that between them the time of their own childhood lived again for me. My mother had wonder description power, making feel with her what she had felt herself and felt again in recording it. But neither she nor any of my grandfather/ Ward's family which had the gift of humor,/my father and his sister, my much-loved anut, had so strongly. I have often thought wherein it was that humor lay. It is I think the faculty of seeing things from two contrasting points of view and with detschment, not taking them too sericusly. Humor needs sympathy, it involves it; but if the sympathy be too strong or the situation too serious, humor is lost in sympathy. And this forms a criterion by which one can judge men's degree of dévelopment. But humor passes into irony, loosing an the kindly quality that is for me/essential feature. Jones William James had wit, often with a shing; his wife could see be amusing had humor and tp/intimately/asphe lit up some story She was telling. I remember one such occasion when she told how she and her daughter Beggy, a naturally reserved and introspective person, and a dressmaker staying in the house got intoxicated on some mushrooms they had gatherd on the lawn and of the way they acted with unextinguishable laughter while the dressmaker's assistant, who had not partaken, wrung her hands in anguish and begged them to be sober. Prof. Royce, the philosopher, and collaague of William Roya James at Harvard, talked with infinite humor when he was then in the mood and was/most amusing to listen to, as well as interesting, but he rebelled in indignation when it was directed against things he took seriously, for seious- ness was the very essence of his nature. July 17th, 1938. Text: A Word about myself to string some memories upon. My father was Charles Hazen Dorr, of Boston, the youngest son of Samuel Dorr, a merchant trading in West India goods during his earlier life; andrater, president of the New England Bank which he had taken part in founding, a memberas Representative and Senator of the Massachusetts Legislature, of whomo more is told elsewhere, and of Mary Grey Ward, his wife, daughter of Thomas Wren Ward of Boston, originally of Salem, a sea captain sailing on ships owned by William Grey of Salem, and his father, Captain William Ward of Salem in his early life; then a merchant on his own account in New York and Boston; finally, agent for Baring Brothers in America till the business was taken over by his son Samuel Grey Ward, my mother's older brother; Interestered in public matters awlays, he was treasurer of Harvard College for twelve years and treasurer of the Boston Antheneum Library My father was born in his father's house near the waterfront, looking out over the harbor, a residential section then, in a house his father 300d three years 'after to purchase one on Tremont Street near the foot 2. of Park Street, a residential section also at that time though wholly given up to business now these many years. My father and mother were married on 1850. Buying land soon and building a home for themselves on the eastern shore of Jamaica Pond. A beautiful location fronting through tall trees the sunset vaew across the lake from the top of a steep bank. There my older brother, William Ward Dorr, and I were born. He in and I on the 29th of December, 1853 during a wild snowstorm through whose deep drifts my father plowed his way on foot to carry the good news to my grandfather Ward then living, with my grandmother, in his Park Street home, my father's parents having died years earlier. So much for introduction. I came into conscious life at three o'clock that stormy morning and have remained in it till now through a period of many changes whose issuance none can see. My brother and were brought up in Jamaica Plains Ward until 1861, when, my grandmother/having died and my grandmother left alone, we moved to Boston, occupying 3 his house on Park Street for a time, thon building our own house on Back Bay, on Commonwealth Avenue close beyond the public garden which was our winter home thereafter till my parents had died and I have lived in it alone a dozen years, carrying on the old traditions of hospitality and friendly living a tradition for which the. house had gained a reputation during my parents lifetime. My brother and I were sent, as the general custom day was in these days, to a school, a famous school it was in its time, kept by Dixwell, himself son of an old 6hina merchant of my grandfather's time and from there we went, according again to the Boston tradition of our day, to Harvard College, my brother leaving after two years to study architecture abroad and I, my course interrupted by a muscular trougle in my eyes, when I also a winter abroad with my father, while my brother returned to Beston for a winter with my mother who could not leave herself on account of my grandmother, which did not prevent my taking my A B degree in due course however, my father reading to me while we stayed abroad, history being the subject I had specialized upon for my concluding college years, the elective system having been just introduced by What I would like to tell is of them, the places we visited the books we read, the thoughts that came to us. And to do this rightly I must go back, too, and tell somewhat of the time that went before, when my mother specially was reading actively all that lay within her reach of the poetry of her time, of its religion and new thought, and of the fiction that portrayed its life. It was an extraordinarily XXFPI wide field that opened out to us in this way, sympathetic a8 we were together and living in a great midst of a great period of change and new development. My parents both were born into the midst of what is called the Romantic Period of English literature, a great period compared with any other that I know, the great period in Greeçe apart, and a period of extraordinary change in the world's religious attitude of thinking men and women which in the end must shape the whole world thought. We are producing no great literature today nor are likely to while such rich fields are opening up in science and socialogy. It is enough to live and watch development or take part in them if one feels one make contributions. I am not interested in the detail of facts, whether in the past or present; it is the great fundemental questions that hold my interest, of life and existence. Since my days at Harvard in the early 1870s a vast panorama has been spread before us and we do not know how to interpret it. We cannot go back to the old and we cannot penetrate the two but must wait for it to unfold itself. Philosophy cannot deal with it and it is but an idle word when the attempt is made. The inconceivable envelops us and all we can do is to relate the different aspects of our existence, one within another. The time we spent abroad was rich to me and to us all in its revelation of the past in terms of human experience which includes above all the emotional sido of life to which facts are but the frame and the question that continually thrusts itself upon me in these later days is why, but there are none to answer it, few to comprehend the import of the question. The old philosophies do not touch it. They revolve in a world of their own making / with nathing positive to build upon though I feel that we can say with certainty that certain things are not. And that after all is much. But within our gorld, foundation&ess though it be, I feel we can be positive, and must be positive, in determining values. And values are not material but spiritual. And hence they too spring The families of all all etuboys attending Differences School had summer homes to which they moved in spring, returning in the fall, a custom then of recent origin made possible by the railroad. Some went to the North Shors, others to Sahant, reached by staanboat; others to the South Shore, where there was splendid opportunity for small-boat sailing, The boys whose homes word by the sea lived on the water through the Edward (1848-1891) Burgess, the famous jacht and sup-defander builder, was one of the older boya at Dixwell's when I entered and got his interest in boats and early training in this way at Beverly. Charles Francis Adams, the recent Secretary of the Navy and famous for his skill in sailing cup- defenders, got his on the South Shore. Others families moved into the country, to Chest- nut Hill and Brookline, Milton and beyond, the boys coming in by train to school, their fathers to business, and Beacon Hill and the Back Bay were like a deserted city through the Summer. We went to Canton, an old town on the Boston and Providence Railroad a few miles beyond Milton and its Blue Hills, in order to be near my grandmother, who had 2 all tobays illending a STREET home there and a famous garden, taking many prizes at the Boston shows. It came about because my grandfather, told by his doctor to get himself a country home, bought an old homestead there of the Visions family, relations of his friends the Bow- ditches, one of whom, Ingersoll Bowditch, had built himself a country home alongside the Nichola homestead, which first my ancle, Samuel Gray Ward, on coming from Lanox, bought and occupied, then we, when business took him to New York to lives There, in real country, with woods and a lake for neighbors, dogs and horses for companions, my brother and I grow up, springs and falls, till collage days. It was great country for us. My brother, a born sailor by inheritance from my mother's family, rigged up a row-boat with a sail, and sailed the laks; I roamed the woods, meadows and pasture-lands about us, gathering wild flowers and collecting birds' eggs in the spring. But when the hot, dry summer came we went to the seashore for my mother's sake, and it was on one of these mid-summer trips that we first came to Mount Desert. 123 Rozeju toldn Dict. list 'It was a pleasant part of England 1. 192 "Gardens do not naturally exist 2 gardens The earliest Herbalists 3 The summer we spent toget er in England 4. That summer in Eng. with its leisurely quest 5. * RP turning from a brief trip, my father 6. * Gladstone Our summer in 1875 in Eng happy one 70% Those years of intimate companionship 8. When Edward Dorr came out 9. Returning from our wintter on the Nile 10. The tracing out of 11. This search after my father's 12. That summer in England in 1875 marks 13. During one of my later trips abroad, friends 14. (Shrewsbury) Leaving York-- Dukeries 15. That summer I came to !now my England 16. Ihad the rare Good f ortune --mother and father 17. This quest after the homes my father took. 18. 1930 That whole summer's journey 19. Kent 20 Monday evening, Mar. 13. Some fragments for use in text. My grandfather kept the letters he received in his long correspondence with the Barings and wter-press copies of those. he wrote, meaning to use them in writing a history of his time when he was through, which would have at least, he wrote "be true." But he unwisely mentioned it in a letter to one of the Baring firm, written near the aid, and they ,alarmod lest things should come out they might not wish Kt to give the public, asked my unole who succeed d in the agency, to burn the whole, which he did, without even Oxamining the aononts for historioa material, as his son, Thomas Wron Ward the second, who is living still, in his early nineties, told me a few years since, looking back his doing it at is father's bidding, when he first