the town the sentiment has been pronounced and positive against the

saloon.

The restless blood of the New Englander, which forced him from his home among the Berkshire hills into the wilderness of Ohio, reproduced itself in the children of the pioneer, the sons of the first settlers, many of them, pushing still farther west. Some of them went in notable companies, such as those which were organized when the whole country was stirred by the news of the discovery of gold in California. Others went away singly or in small groups, as one and another moved away to seek fame and fortune in regions of the middle West. The results were peculiar, affecting both town and church. As the years went by, many of those who with reason might have been expected to be pillars in the church had moved from the town. Many who had been in boyhood subject to a puritanic strictness and severity in religion, in manhood revolted into laxity. Many families "moved West," and most families were smaller than the families of earlier days; so that district schools where once were forty scholars dwindied to two or three.

It is easy to see that the removal of many of the children of the first settlers would lead to the incoming of strangers, and that gradually these strangers would take the lead in the affairs of the town. In the old church the majority of the workers are comparatively new men, the descendants of the pioneers being comparatively few. In the Baptist and Methodist societies the new members are more powerful, because these organizations did not have the early start accorded to the first church of the town. some persons this state of things has been a source of much regret; rightly interpreted, it should rather occasion rejoicing. In many a home in the western states there are cherished memories of Granville, Ohio, memories as precious as those which were prized by the pioneers who longed for

To

another sight of the blue hills of Massachusetts. In every one of those homes there have been elements of strength which had their growth in the home of childhood. There has been loss at home perhaps, but the ideas of Massachusetts, filtrated through Ohio, have been a life-giving stream for the newer regions west of the Scioto.

One important element of the population has already been mentioned. The Welsh, who settled the northeast quarter of the township, have spread all over it, making a class of citizens highly acceptable. Twenty years ago their native tongue was common in Granville. Many spoke it in daily conversation. Two ministers preached it on Sunday. To-day perhaps not half a dozen can speak it correctly. Quaint Welsh habits of dress have long since been laid aside, and with English as a common language, very often the name alone distinguishes the Welsh citizen. The names are interesting. Many of them consist of the practical repetition of a word, the ancient Ap having been dropped. Griffith Griffith, Evan Evans, David Davis, John Jones, Thomas Thomas, William Williams, Owen Owens and other such names have been common. It is related of the Hazard family of Rhode. Island, that when the common name, Thomas Hazard, multiplied exceedingly, Thomas Hazard, 3d, being succeeded by other Thomases, the several Toms began to be distinguished by nicknames taken from their occupations in life, "Farmer Tom,” “Nailer Tom," "Sailor Tom," "College Tom.” Among the Welsh in Granville, various devices have found favor. Such names as "Carpenter Evans," "Plasterer Jones," "Weaver Davis," "Cooper Evans" have been known for years, surprise being often manifested. by the stranger at election or other times, when the baptismal name is pronounced in formal style. No one ever had to ask who were meant by "Big Tom" and "Little Tom." If two men of the same name were "Little

George" and "Lame George," the distinction was just as clear as was the name of "Tommy J."

The Welsh influence has no doubt been felt in the matter of music, although from the very first the Granville settlers gave much attention to singing as well as to instrumental music. A band was organized at an early day, one of the first west of the Alleghanies. At least two of the instruments are still preserved, as is the memory of the humiliation which came when the band was at Detroit in the War of 1812, and was surrendered by Hull. On another famous occasion the Granville band furnished music. It was when Governor Clinton of New York turned the first spade of earth for the Ohio Canal, whose famous "deep cut" is not many miles from Granville. Instruction in music has been a feature of the educational work of the community for seventy years or more. The Welsh are noted for their singing, and in this respect the two elements of population have been harmonious.

The most important factor in Granville's history is education. Now and then stories are told of surprising commercial interests of early days, of fortunes made in wool-buying, of plough factories, gristmills, tanneries, potash works and foundries. Pride is felt in traditions of various banks, which issued paper money and had their bills quoted with the usual or unusual discounts in the "Merchants' Ready Reckoner and Bank-note Detector" and similar safety devices for business men. A barn is pointed out, which once was part of the great warehouse. A long disused pulley is shown, which once helped to haul bags of wool to the third story for keeping until the time for sale came. A once pretentious structure was the clock factory. But Granville never was and never will be a business centre. The fertile farms surrounding it have furnished the substantial element of life, and the educational interests have taken the place of commerce and manufactures.

The first college to be founded was what is now known as Denison University. In May, 1831, when the Ohio Baptist Education Society was contemplating the establishment of a college, the offer by citizens of Granville of a farm valued at $3,400 determined the location. The sum was small as an endowment; but the character of the community stood in the stead of other assets, and "The Granville Literary and Theological Institution" was the result. Designed as a manual labor school, as were many of the western colleges in early days, it later changed its name to "Granville College," and yet again, having moved from the farm to a site within the village, it became "Denison University," this misleading name being given because of a donation of $10,000 by a generous Baptist. Theological instruction offered for several years justified in some measure the use of the word "university," and when the work of the institution was limited to first class college lines, legal difficulties prevented a return to the original "college" designation. The attendance upon the institution never reached a very large number, but its standard of scholarship has always been high and its instruction thorough. Its graduates have given good account of themselves, notably in the professions of the ministry and of teaching. Its best-known alumni are lawyers, including the late Hon. George L. Converse, an Ohio member of Congress and a prominent friend of the wool-growers; Hon. Milton I. Southard of New York, also an exmember of Congress from Ohio; Hon. George R. Sage, for many years a United States judge for the southern district of Ohio, and Hon. Judson Harmon, Attorney-General of the United States under President Cleveland. But these gentlemen who have made a success at the law are exceptions, for the profession of law has not attracted many of the graduates, who have rather turned to teaching or to preaching. Every Granville student

is proud of the achievements of Rev. William Ashmore, for many years a successful Baptist missionary in China, and of Dr. John G. Kerr, a medical missionary of the Presbyterian faith, also working for many years in the great empire of the East. Graduates of the institution are found in the faculties of the University of Chicago, Yale, Harvard, Columbia, and in many smaller colleges. How much the ministerial portion of the alumni has done for the uplifting of the people of the middle West, no one can justly estimate.

Of the nine men who have served as president since 1831, six were born in New England; four graduated from Brown University and one. from Waterville College (now Colby), and the present executive head, although born in Virginia, cherishes the proud heritage of descent from that famous. couple, John Alden and Priscilla, through several generations of New England ancestors. During the first quarter century of its history the professors of the college included seven men, every one born in New England, one a Yale graduate, three alumni of Brown, two of Middlebury, and the seventh one of the pioneer alumni of the University of Michigan.

With a sightly location upon a hill, which commands an extensive view, with a well-equipped faculty, with six good buildings and an endowment of perhaps half a million dollars, Denison University ranks well in the front line of Ohio colleges.

Situated close by, and with its work somewhat connected with the school for boys, is Shepardson College, a Baptist institution for girls. This was established in 1832, a very early date in the history of female education in the West. The Granville Female Seminary, as it was then called, announced as one of its special features. the first piano brought to Granville, a five-octave upright instrument. The school lived for seven years, when it was sold to the Episcopalians, who comprised a very influential element

of the population for about thirty years. In 1861 the Episcopal Female Seminary again passed into Baptist hands, and the Young Ladies' Institute was established, which continued with honorable history until 1887, when it became Shepardson College, a name given it because of the donation of buildings and grounds by Rev. Daniel Shepardson to the Baptists of Ohio on certain conditions affecting endowment and future conduct of the school. Its course of study is now practically identical with that of Denison University, and the two institutions afford a practical example of coëducation, although they are governed by separate boards of trustees. Mr. Shepardson is a native of Royalston, Massachusetts, was educated at Amherst and Brown, and with a number of his teachers during a score of years represented the same New England influence which was so marked in the college for men. This Baptist school for girls, locally known as "The Upper Sem.," to distinguish it from "The Lower Sem.," a Presbyterian college for girls, situated at the opposite end of the village, was saved from years of struggle by a generous response to the appeal for endowment. All the Baptist educational interests of Ohio centre in Granville. With the Presbyterians there is no such concentration; therefore local support only has been given to Granville Female College, and there have been trying times in its financial history. This college was a child of the mother church, and if preliminary schools are counted in its life, it is the oldest female college west of the Alleghanies. Its teachers have been efficient men and women, and its alumnæ association is proud of such members as the wife of Hon. John Sherman of Ohio and Mary Hartwell Catherwood, the western novelist, who was reared near Granville, and followed her school life in Granville Female College with a year or more of teaching in the local village schools. But as in the case of Denison University and Shepardson

College, the Presbyterian College has made its impression upon the world, not by its famous graduates, but by the thoroughness of its instruction and by the number of earnest, thoughtful students who have left it to make homes better, to serve public interests in the schoolroom or church, or as missionaries to spread the good news of the kingdom throughout the earth.

At one time there was a flourishing academy for boys conducted under the auspices of the Congregational Church of Granville; but this name of academy is now preserved in Doane Academy, the preparatory school of Denison University, whose benefactor was William Howard Doane of Cincinnati, the well-known writer of Sundayschool music.

For nearly seventy years Granville has been known as a college town. Thousands of different individuals have gained education here, and this fact has widened its influence, until no one can rightly estimate its contribution to the life of the United States.

The old Granville in Massachusetts is largely owned by aliens now. The "old families" have few representatives, the Irish and later the Danes having come in to buy the farms once tilled by a race of commonwealth builders. The old church has lost its prestige, as newer faiths have gained in numbers and the influence of their adherents. If all of the old should pass away, however, the history of Granville, Massachusetts, is secure in the influences which have radiated from it and especially in the life of its child, Granville, Ohio.

For this is a New England village in the West, a place of broad, shady streets lined with pleasant homes, a place of culture and refinement, where students come and go, where character is developed and destiny is shaped. One may trace the boundaries of the "green," now bisected by streets and quartered by church homes, or, turning aside a few rods from the centre of life, may find himself in a quaint and quiet city of two thousand dead, one of the most interesting burying grounds in Ohio, where curious epitaph and lofty sentiment mark stones which bear the names of honored New England families, tell of college life in famous New England institutions, or describe achievement of those who followed the flag in the Revolution or the War of 1812. New England is stamped all over this old burying ground, and when the stranger goes back to the main street, sees the well-equipped college buildings, the church edifices of unusual excellence, the commodious public school, learns that the municipality owns the electric light plant as well as a splendid system of water works, and gains some knowledge of the high tone of the community for morality and general education, he is impressed with the fact that this is an exceptional locality. When its history of nearly a century is made known to him, he understands and appreciates anew what the West owes to New England, and realizes to some extent the far-reaching influence of some little town, located it may be far from railroads, upon the summit of a Massachusetts hill.

F when we came to the place where the ways diverge we could follow and try both, there would be fewer mistakes. But usually there is no chance for experiment. One must choose for better, for worse, and that is the end of it.

Ruth had reached the crossroads, and it was time to choose. She had almost decided; but she had stolen. from the summer day a half hour to think it over. On top of a little hill she lay in the moss, under her red parasol, looking earnestly over the bay below, flecked here and there with sails in the stretch between the island and the shore. A yacht larger than the rest was making for the island pier, her white wings slanting closely to the waves in eagerness to reach the goal. One of the diverging paths led straight and even down the slope to Ruth's cottage and to the pier beyond. And Ruth had told them when he came to send him up this path, for she had almost resolved to go to meet him.

Her eyes wandered inland from the bay. To the left a rougher path scrambled down over the face of the rocks, through scrub oaks and clumps of bay and sweet fern, and crawled painfully away across the island to the rival settlement of summer cottages. The rose bushes on either side made the way a maze of sweetness, and a gray-clad figure striding buoyantly along in the far distance seemed to find it pleasant, as if it led to even better things. Ruth frowned slightly as she caught sight of this figure. She had made up her mind; and closing her eyes wearily, she turned her head

The yacht had dropped anchor and the path to the pier was short. Ruth went leisurely down the smooth green slope to meet the stout figure in immaculate white yachting rig, and her way was chosen. Ruth was ambitious, not so much for the wealth and position which lay in this path, as for the opportunities for culture and improvement and a larger life, which blossomed along the way. She felt keenly the modern sense of duty to herself, that refinement of egoism which sees only in the development of one's mental possibilities "the sweet fruition of an earthly crown." All this the man of her choice alone could make possible for her. Youth he had squandered and could not buy again, but most other things were his for the giving, and he loved her devotedly.

Early in the autumn they had a magnificent wedding, and at Ruth's request Tom was there among the ushers. Even while she stood ready to march up the broad path to the altar, where that other waited for her, Ruth looked at Tom. She saw his youth and strength. She read the love in his eyes and realized how manly and how brave he was. But she did not falter from her duty to herself. Indeed, she almost smiled to think that she could have hesitated. For poor Tom's path was one of toil and sacrifice; and the sweetness of the roses there could not blind her to the briers, nor make her forget how little else he had to offer.

Rapidly now their paths diverged, and as years went by Ruth saw less and less of the rising young architect.