"The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast."

THUS has the poet graphically described the landing of our Pilgrim Fathers on Plymouth Rock nearly three centuries ago. What must have been the feelings of those brave hearts, when, after tearing themselves from their native land, choosing between home and the freedom of worshipping the Almighty as they saw fit, and as their own consciences dictated, after braving the storms of the Atlantic, which tossed the tiny, but staunch Mayflower about for weeks, to land upon a shore which must have seemed cold, and desolate, and forbidding? But they must have felt that their religious freedom more than compensated for all, for they set bravely to work, and founded the first New England colony. At the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, on Massachusetts Bay, began the history of New England, and the rugged Massa

chusetts and Rhode Island coasts are replete with historical associations and reminiscences, contemporary with the beginning of American history.

But charming as it is to revel in the events of the early colonial life, the object of this article is to deal with the Massachusetts coast, and its historical places, as they appear to-day; so I must confine myself to this Pilgrim Land, as we see it nearly three hundred years after the Mayflower.

came.

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore; There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar."

The visitor will find much at Plymouth to interest him. He will, no doubt, go to Pilgrim Hall, where will be found collections of early relics; and on the walls are portraits of men and paintings of scenes prominent in early history, while cabinets contain

many memorials of the Mayflower band. Here one almost holds communion with the Carvers, the Bradfords, the Brewsters, and the Standishes, for here is found the apparel worn by these quaint personages.

And quaint is the old town of Hingham, with its curious buildings and landmarks of 1660. The name of Cohassit is familiar to all, but to know the quiet old town at the top of the rocks and ledges one must paddle his boat among the reefs and islands along the shore. Near by, at Scituate, lived Samuel Woodworth, who described the memorable scenes thereabouts in one of the sweetest lyrics ever penned, entitled "The Old Oaken Bucket." The twin sister of Plymouth is Duxbury, which was the home of Miles Standish, John Alden, and others of the Mayflower band. Weeks might be profitably spent amid the historic associations of these old towns, which to-day retain much of their original quaintness. It is evident in the old structures, the churches or meeting-houses," and in the simple habits of the people of to-day.

falling in decay-and, like other now visible remains of those sturdy, hardy forefathers of ours, will soon disappear altogether, and naught will remain to us but memories, and the events recorded on the pages of history.

The whole rugged coast from Roston to Cape Cod is strewn with historic reminders of the doings of the early colonists; and at Hull, the old fort constructed by the colonists, when

The whole New England coast-in fact, all New England-has constant reminders of the old, quaint times. There are old, rambling, colonial mansions, walls of stone and plaster, forts and breast works, little cemeteries with black headstones, with now and then an old windmill, gaunt and still, standing alone on some flat place or elevation, exposed to the fresh breeze which now blows through its skeleton arms, which hang motionless and lifeless, no longer responsive to the wind which once swung them around to grind the Indian corn brought hither by the colonists. The town is rotting

THE EDGE or NEW ENGLAND.

invasion by the English in the early Revolutionary days was feared, is still to be seen in a remarkable and almost perfect state of preservation. This coast is fitly styled "stern and rockbound," for while in summer the sea is as blue, and the sky above it as fair and gentle, and the surf as soft and

white, and the murmur as gentle as anywhere, in winter the ocean is stern and tempestuous, and grey beneath the leaden sky, and the sea thunders against the rocks and cliffs, where many a brave marine meets his death, and many a good ship its doom.

And one might almost imagine that the colonial days were not yet over, if he stops at the Indian town, Mashpee, lying between Falmouth and Barnstable, on the south shore of Cape Cod. It nestles on the coast of Vineyard Sound, extending from Waquoit Bay

Historically, Newport, in the little State of Rhode Island, is one of the most interesting places on the New England coast. There was a time in the history of Newport, when the growing importance of the port of New York," far to the westward," came in occasional rumors through skippers, who ventured thus far to trade with the Dutchmen; and there were even those who were so bold and far-sighted as to predict that, if Newport didn't look sharp, the Dutch colony at Manhattan would rear a

ers, however, and when the British army landed, early in the contest, they came to stay; and it was only after three years of hardship that relief came, in the shape of a French fleet, under Count d'Estaing, who compelled the invaders to destroy most of the great fleet of war ships, transports, and minor craft, that had congregated in the harbor.

One of the most remarkable relics of past ages in Newport is the old stone mill. The origin of this antique structure is a matter of dispute among antiquarians, some claiming that it was erected by the Norse voyagers, and others that it is the walls of an ancient windmill built by the contemporaries of the Pilgrim Fathers. It is in the form of a circular tower, resting on eight irregular columns.

There is no more fascinating place in all Pilgrim Land, not only on account of its historic associations, but of its own quaintness, beauty, and peculiar location, than Nantucket, the island in the purple sea. It is included in the domain of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. There is no prettier picture, upon a bright morning in early summer, than Nantucket harbor. Vessels approaching it are guided by the frequent buoys marking the hidden channel up to the point where the solid tower of the lighthouse stands. Along the water front are the visible relics of a once vast traffic in whale oil, in the shape of old warehouses. Those were in the days when "all Nantuck used to voyage away and stay for years in distant seas;" and how many, indeed, stayed for ever? Within this generation, Nantucket, always self reliant. and independent, has been invaded by a section of that great host of city people with money and summer leisure, who are continually searching up and down for places to build their dog-day homes. Some of these strangers have got into the habit of going over to Siasconset (locally 'Sconset), and inducing the fishermen to give up

their little seven-by-nine abodes; for Sconset is a thorough fisherman's paradise, and nobody has a house bigger than his neighbor; consequently, everybody is on good terms with everybody else In the midst of all the quaintness, there is a modern hotel, with every comfort, "The Springfield," owned and conducted by Mr. Č. H. Mowry, a model host, who makes everybody welcome to old Nantuck.

The island is fourteen miles long, and its greatest width is eight miles, There is a peculiar softness of the air, which is not bracing, like mountain air, nor yet enervating, like the air of a tropic isle, but seems restful and healing. The peculiar softness is attributed to the nearness of the island to the Gulf Stream, the warm current of which flows less than forty miles away, approaching nearer to the American continent here than at any other place along the northern coast. There is a strange restfulness and peace, as we sit on the veranda of the "Springfield," surrounded by ample grounds, with grassy carpets spreading in wide sweeps about the house, the waters of the inner harbor lapping lazily against the beach a hundred yards away, and the sail-dotted bosoin of Vineyard Sound sparkling in the hazy distance on the north. When the shades of evening have dropped down over land and sea, the two lighthouses in sight send out their yellow beams, glancing out in friendly greeting to the passing mariner, while the soft breeze breaks their reflection in the water into a thousand shimmering fragments. Then the old curfew bell rings out its warning.

Nantucket retains many of the features of her early existence. A town crier cries various statements in the streets, prefacing his announcements by a blast on his fish horn, or a tinkle of his bell. The bell rings at stated. intervals in the ancient town, and old customs and habits cling tenaciously to the natives.

SOMERVILLE, MASS.

THE present proposals to disestablish and disendow the Church of Scotland and the Church of England in Wales, are probably the precursors of a desperate political struggle. They constitute a turning-point in that union of Church and State which has had so considerable a part in moulding the institutions and sentiments of the English people. Action, of course, may be taken in Scotland, as has been the case in Ireland, without affecting directly the interests of the Establishment in England; but attacks upon the Church in Wales form a part of the campaign against the Church as a whole, and success would infallibly act as a precedent and encouragement for the numerous elements in the Liberal ranks which desire to destroy the system, root and branch. The discussion cannot rest with Wales alone. That principality is a part and parcel of England. Its counties commingle with those of the greater country. Its parishes, local institutions, electoral divisions and religious life, are in very many places interlaced with those of England. Mr. Asquith's measure practically recognized this by proposing that twelve English parishes should be disestablished and disendowed, whilst fourteen so-called Welsh parishes are to be transferred to some English diocese, as a compensation. So intertwined are the interests along the imaginary boundary line, that juggling of this extraordinary nature was found to be the only way out of the difficulty. It certainly involved a principle which will be contested with all the power of British Conservatism. If, according to Gladstonian phraseology of the past, Wales is really a nation, its Church is therefore a separate estab

lishment, and whatever may be the right or the wrong of present proposals, they should not affect the Church in England. If, on the other hand, Wales is a recognized portion of Eng land, any such abrogation of the connection between the Church and the State is a direct destruction of a portion of the existing Establishment, and opens the way for further action along similar lines. It will be seen at once, therefore, that the application of the principle of disendowment and disestablishment in the recent Welsh bill to an English diocese, constituted a distinct menace to the Church in England, and formed an additional precedent for the future. And further, that the Liberal theory of a Welsh nation is made to give way to the desire for an effective attack upon the English Establishment, while the Conservative doctrine that the Church in Wales and in England, as well as the countries themselves, are one and indivisible, is practically accepted for the purposes of the coming contest.

Mr. Asquith's disestablishment measure was, of course, the reward of political merit. Without a distinct promise from Mr. Gladstone that disestablishment in Scotland and Wales would soon be taken up, the Radical members from these divisions of the kingdom could never have been held firm in their allegiance to Home Rule. Without a pledge from Lord Rosebery that the policy would be pushed, his small and disorganized majority could not have been held together so long. But it remains to be seen how far the Liberal party has been wise in arousing the dormant sentiment in favor of a National Church; the feeling in England that the fate of its