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dowed at as early a period as the year 1636, and
which, in the course of time, has grown into &
college, known on the other side of the Atlantic
as the Harvard University. Hard by this seat
of learning appears an antique and spacious
edifice standing upon the higher of two terraces,
fronted by stately elms, and surrounded with
grounds, adorned with trees, and shrubs, and
flowers. This pleasant spot possesses a double
interest in the eyes of visitors. In other days,
the antique mansion was the head-quarters of
the illustrious Washington, previous to the
evacuation of Boston; and Longfellow has thus
recalled the past in the reminiscences suggested
by the sight of the old oak-panels in his sump-
tuous study-

at Liverpool, he received a most cordial wel- | come. A few days after, he visited Carlisle, and was the guest of Captain Ferguson, of Morton. The Literary and Mechanics' Institute in that city presented him with an address, to which, in replying, he said that they could not think how very grateful and pleasant it was to him to find his naine had a place in their memories and their affections, when he had believed that, in coming to the land of his fathers, he would have found no trace of his family or name, even in the streets of towns, or on the outside of the houses of the living; but only in the graveyard, and on the doors of the dead. On the afternoon of the same day, the 13th of June, he visited Eden Hall, the seat of the ancient border clan of the Musgraves, where is still preserved the ancient goblet of the Luck of Edinburgh.

Mr. Longfellow visited Cambridge on the 16th of June, and received from the ancient university in that town the degree of Doctor of Laws (LL.D.), amid much enthusiasm from a large and distinguished auditory. It is pleasant that a leading poet of the United States should have been thus honoured by a university generally as sparing of its favours as Cambridge; but it is especially noteworthy that this mark of esteem towards Longfellow should have been considered as a partial return for the kindness of America towards Mr. Charles Dickens.

"Once, ah, once, within these walls
One whom memory oft recalls,
The Father of his Country, dwelt.
And yonder meadows broad and damp
The fires of the besieging camp
Encircled with a burning belt.
Up and down these echoing stairs,
Heavy with the weight of cares,
Sounded his majestic tread;
Yes, within this very room
Sat he in those hours of gloom,
Weary both in heart and head.'
The following interesting account of Long-
fellow's residence is from an American

Source:

It is certainly a grand old estate, this residence of Longfellow's; almost too grand, indeed, to harmonize with one's romantic notion of what be. It is such a house as the untitled family the abode of rhyme-compelling genius should aristocracy of America are wont to delight invery ancient for the new world, built with that substantial massiveness and unpretending plainness which symbolize the characteristics of prerevolutionary generations. A simple, low, stone wall, settled a little by time, separates the square lawn from the street; half wayrises a high, plain, wooden gateway. Looking with ease over the wall, the passer-by may behold at leisure the residence of the poet and its sur

On the afternoon of Saturday, the 4th of July, Longfellow had the honour of an interview with the Queen at Windsor Castle; and during his stay in London he had a grand dinner given to. him at the Langham Hotel, Portland-place, by the distinguished artist, Mr. Bierstadt. The entertainment was brilliant in the extreme, and thoroughly international in character, the attendance comprising some of the most celebrated men on both sides of the Atlantic. Amongst them was the great statesman, Mr. Gladstone, who, after dinner, in very appropriate remarks, called on the company to drink heartily to the health, happiness, and fame of their guest. A few things occurred at this dinner which ought not to be passed over in silence, on account of their novelty. A likeness of the poet was at tached to the bill of fare placed before the com-roundings. On either side of the walk from the pany; and to that especially prepared for Longfellow himself, a small oil picture, painted by Mr. Bierstadt, was attached, the subject being the "Departure of Hiawatha," as described in the concluding lines of the poem.

Just before Longfellow's departure to the south of Europe, he spent some days in the Isle of Wight, at the residence of a congenial spiritEngland's greatest living poet, Tennyson.

The criticisms upon the works of Longfellow are almost universal, and would fill more pages than this volume contains. We must therefore simply content ourselves with a short tribute to his praise by George Gilfillan, who speaks of his poems as being "inspirited with poetic life, decorated with chaste image, and shadowed with pensive sentiment, like the hand of manhood laid gently on the billowy head of childhood." This same writer has said, glancing critically at all the poems of Longfellow, that his genius is essentially lyric; that he has neither the severity of the epic power nor the subtlety of the dramatic genius, and that he swiftly and surely responds to the "passing impulses that come upon his soul."

THE RESIDENCE OF LONGFELLOW. IN order to render our sketch of the American poet the more interesting, we give an illustration of Longfellow's house. It is situated in an old American town, which the original settlers are said to have intended as the capital of Massachusetts, and which they dignified with the name of Cambridge-a school, erected and en

gate to the house is a pretty simple lawn, care-
fully kept, unvaried by trees. In the centre is a
fountain which, however, is covered with moss,
whether by neglect or through the fancy of the
proprietor, we know not, A small terrace sur-
rounds the house, which is a few feet above the
lawn; steps conduct one up to the huge, slightly-
ornamented door. On either side, and at the
back of the house, are some large, handsome
elms, beyond them a neat but plain garden.
Around the edge of the walls which separate
this estate from neighbouring ones, are groups
of tall lilac bushes and other shrubs. At
the side of the house towards the university
is a cool porch, roofed, supplied with benches
and chairs, and looking out upon a graceful
clump of elms. This porch is one of the fa-
vourite haunts of the poet; very often he is to
be seen there towards evening. bare-headed,
walking or conversing with his children. The
house itself is of wood, high, with slightly slant-
ing roof, old-fashioned windows fancifully deco-
rated at the top with an old look which is charm-
ing to the lover of antiquities, and by its homeli-
ness without, seems to invite to cozy cheerful-
ness, to roaring fires, to genial welcome within.
It has long ago been painted yellow; the paint,
at frequent intervals, has disappeared; still the
house looks venerable, not at all slovenly. If it
did not possess, in its present occupant, a living
and most interesting attraction, it would still
have a charm to all, as a specimen of the man-
sions of the provincial aristocracy, when Massa-
chusetts was still a province; and to Americans,
because it has a history connected with the

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events of the revolution. The spacious old rooms now occupied by the poet were once, at a memorable time, the abode of America's most illustrious son. The writer of lyrics has taken the place of the actor of epics. When, in the early days of the war of independence, Washington was elected by Congress to the command of the colonial army, English troops had possession of Boston. The siege was formed by concentrating the patriot troops in the neighbouring towns. Washington went to New England to direct their movements in person, and fixed his head-qarters in convenient Cambridge-in this same venerable mansion where Longfellow now lives. Thence he sent out his orders, general and special; here convened, in anxious deliberation, the little knot of patriot officers, unskilled in war, collected from farm-houses and laboratories, to drill by manual and learn the art of sieges. Within this door passed the wealthy merchant, Hancock, who had turned his

thoughts to "rules" and "orders of the day;" gruff Samuel Adams, a Puritan Mirabeau, putting his finger exactly on the pith of the trouble; rewards for the capture of those two had just been proclaimed over in Boston. In these quiet rooms, given up now these many years to the Muse, whence come out ever and anon gracefullest gems of the rhythmic art, a plan of campaign was drawn up, experienced ex-royal Lieutenant Washington supervising, ex-merchants, doctors, farmers, advising,-all agreeing, too, and at last succeeding; unity, a rare thing in revo lutionary councils, ever prevailing. Washington did not stir from this Longfellow's house till he could go in triumph. It is no wonder, then, that Americans visit this old place with mingled feelings-that they find here a reminiscence as well as an attractive presence; and while gazing at the home of the first of native poets, revert to that troublous time when there was for America but the grim poetry of war.

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