on the east, we find horizontal strata covered with glacial deposits and exhibiting a gently rolling topography. In the park itself are found many of the features produced by the activities of mountain making, and the two are brought into immediate contact by the great Lewis overthrust fault, which pushed the folded mountain strata out over the horizontal deposits of the plains. The escarpment thus produced is trenched by innumerable streams of all sizes, furnishing many of the features of river erosion and deposit.

Glaciation added its quota to the collection, as in other parts of the country, but here remnants of the original glaciers still exist. Thus we are able to see, not only the effects of glacial action, but the glaciers themselves actually at work. In one instance, Iceberg Lake, the glacier comes down to the edge of a body of standing water and produces real icebergs before the eyes of the observer. To be sure the glaciers are small and practically all of them are of the cliff type, but several are large enough to show all the characteristics of glacier structure. Here bergschrunds, crevasses, an occasional serac or ice cascade, glacial streams, ice caves, and moraines are all to be found, if not on one glacier, at least not many miles apart.

Below the surface alternate layers of limestones, shales, and sandstones exhibit the leading features of stratigraphy. While it would be too much to expect to find volcanic action actually going on, the results of previous volcanic action are present. Intrusive lava sheets which forced themselves between layers of sedimentary rocks already deposited and the dikes which were formed where lava pushed up vertically through cracks in the rocks are frequently exposed on the eroded mountainsides. In at least one locality a lava flow which poured out on the surface of the earth was preserved by a subsequent deposit of sand. Later this covering sandstone was removed by erosion, and in Granite Park one can see laid bare all the features of a modern lava flow.

With the folding of layers are found also the more minute changes in structure known as metamorphism in the mashing and splitting of rock masses.

When the slow movement of the rock masses became irresistible and the layers could no longer bend, they broke and produced faults of all sorts, both small and large, culminating in the huge Lewis overthrust, which carried the mountain masses from five to fifteen miles out over the horizontal layers of the great plains. The subsequent wearing down of these pushed-up strata furnishes illustrations of all sorts of erosion. On the steep mountainsides and summits rock fragments are pried loose by freezing and fall in talus slopes of all grades. Steep slopes of shingle alternate with piles of rock fragments of all sizes. On the middle slopes are all sorts of rock ledges and terraces, and in the valleys alluvial cones, deltas, and flood plains.

IN the field of botany the features pre

sented are as diverse and as comprehensive as those of geology. The characteristic vegetation of three sections of the continent-Atlantic, Pacific, and Arctic-meet here, and this insures not only the presence of a large number of species, but also a much greater diversity than can be found in any area of similar size in the whole country. Thus the taxonomist finds a rich and varied flora, while the ecologist finds a great variety of communities adjusted to the various physiographic features from mountain summits to valley floors.

On the east side of the park the prairie vegetation of the great plains mingles with the plants of the lower slopes of the mountains. The stream valleys which border the east front of the mountains furnish groves of deciduous trees with thickets of willow and alder along the streams. Occasional tongues of conifers alternate with the deciduous trees in the valleys and wander up the sides of the low hills in open stand and with stunted habit.

Where the stream valleys are broad and flat, ponds and small lakes furnish an abundance of aquatic plants, and there are occasional alkaline depressions with their characteristic plant life.

On the narrow flood plains of the larger streams which flow down from the mountains are heavy forests of conifers, with tall trees growing in close stand. The undergrowth of shrubs and ground plants is dense and rich in species, while ferns, mosses, liverworts, and fungi are abundant.

These forests extend up the side of the valleys, but the trees gradually become shorter and more scattered and the un

dergrowth is also more scanty. On exposed shoulders and knolls conditions are frequently very dry and the plant species on them are characteristically different.

On the middle slopes of the mountainsides the vegetation shows a marked change in habit and species. The trees are small and very scattered, and low shrub thickets have largely taken the place of tree communities. Typical mountain meadows of grasses and flowering plants are frequent and afford the best-known and most striking feature of the mountain vegetation.

On the upper slopes the trees take on timber-line characteristics, and are only a few feet in height, with gnarled and twisted branches. On the gravel slopes grass meadows are the rule, while on the coarser boulder and talus slopes the plants grow only in small clumps between the rock fragments. Lichens of various colors appear in great profusion on the bare rocks themselves.

Near the summits characteristic alpine plants begin to appear, and many of them are closely related to the plants of the Arctic barrens far to the north. On rounded gravelly mountain-tops these plants persist to the very summits, but on sharp peaks almost the only vegetation is found in the lichens, which even there are abundant on all bare rock surfaces.

Along the small streams and in the wet depressions above timber-line still other species appear, and the vegetation resembles that of the Arctic muskegs and wet tundra.

N the other side of the Continental

Divide the general character of the vegetation is similar to that of the east slope, but many western forms add variety and interest to the composition of the plant communities.

In the western valleys the forests are much denser and more luxuriant than those of the east slope, and on the flats at the head of Lake McDonald extensive sphagnum bogs are found.

A very important division of plant ecology has to do with the order in which plant communities succeed one another. In a region like this, where glaciers are continuously retreating and laying bare stretches of plantless soil, there is abundant opportunity to observe the appearance of pioneer plants and also the order in which the different communities follow one another. The earliest stages in these successions are found on the clay and gravel moraines, on gravel and rock slides, and in the ponds and streams of the glacial fronts. From these beginnings various lines of succession can be

traced to the climax forests in the bottoms of the stream valleys.

THIS

HIS subject has been the one least studied in Glacier Park, but it is the one most needing study, as the composition of the animal communities is rapidly changing.

visits of man, this very change affords an opportunity to study the reactions of the animals to man, which in itself is a matter of interest and of considerable value.

Among the larger mammals are to be found, not only mountain sheep and goats, but elk, moose, and deer. In cer

cies of fish, many native and some introduced. Birds and insects are everywhere, especially in the valleys, but many species are found even on the mountaintops and on the edges of the glaciers and snow-fields.

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numbers and status of animals in the park. Until recently it was thought that the presence of tourists as well as poaching in the winter was killing off the larger animals or driving them into less accessible parts of the mountains. In the last few years, however, it would seem that adverse influences are being overcome and that the larger animals are increasing in number. The smaller mammals are certainly becoming accustomed to the presence of man, but on this account there is less opportunity to study them in their natural condition.

On the whole, the park is rich in animal life, and appearance, habits, and distribution of animals offer attractive opportunities for study.

Even if the character of the animal communities is changing through the

goat, sheep, and deer are frequently seen, and in more retired spots elk are not uncommon. not uncommon. The grizzlies are disappearing, but the brown bears are becoming accustomed to man and are probably increasing in numbers, although they are not as common around the hotels as in some of our other mountain parks.

Among predatory animals the coyote is occasionally seen and the mountain lion still exists in the wilder portions of the park. Among the rodents the marmot and porcupine are becoming adjusted and are frequently seen, while squirrels and chipmunks are very common, especially around the hotels and chalets. The cony is timid and does not seem to be as common as formerly. In the bodies of water there are several aquatic mammals, and a number of spe

study along the lines indicated, it is hoped that our universities and colleges, and even high schools, will take advantage of these opportunities and send summer classes to our various National Parks. This, of course, is being done to some extent by near-by institutions, but the practice might well be followed by those at a greater distance. There is no way in which education and recreation can be combined to better advantage than by a summer course in one of our National Parks. Every such course helps to pay interest on the investment made by our country in setting aside these pre.. serves, and thereby helps to justify the original investment and the expense of the upkeep. Moreover, the class of visitors brought by such courses will add to the morale of the parks and will help to offset the indifference and carelessness shown by some of the tourists.

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HE backgrounds of many incidents that loom large are often set in obscure and unnoticed country towns. I have frequently felt the urge to compile a gazetteer of the great that would list the humble beginnings of many eminent men or the preliminary incidents of notable events. This reflection is revived by a perusal of "A History of Cornwall, Connecticut, a Typical New England Town," just published by the Rev. Edward Comfort Starr, who for twenty-eight years filled the Congregationalist pulpit in the community.

There are five Cornwalls in the United States, named after the Cornish county at the tip end of England. The Cornwall in New York gained distinction by being for many years the home of Dr. Lyman Abbott. Missouri, Pennsylvania, and Virginia each harbor a town of that

name.

The Cornwall of Mr. Starr's narrative is a rough township in Litchfield County, about thirty-eight miles northwest of Hartford, with a population of around twelve hundred souls. It borders the rapid-running Housatonic. Mount Mohawk towers one thousand six hundred and eighty feet imposingly in its midst. From its hard soil came Thomas Porter to become a judge of the Vermont Supreme Court, whose son, Ebenezer, was President of Andover Theological Sem

By DON C. SEITZ

inary. In the neighborhood, called Dudleytown, was born Mary T. Cheney, the public-school teacher who was to be the very unhappy wife of Horace Greeley. Heman Swift, a brigadier in the Revolution, was much trusted by George Washington. Most notable, however, is the fact that here was the nest place of the Allens. Four of them were with the valiant Ethan at Ticonderoga. He was a resident of Cornwall before he became a Green Mountain Boy and the creator of Vermont. From Cornwall Ethan went to the great French and Indian War. Mr. Starr recalls the little-noted fact that in February, 1784, Allen, as a second venture, "married a beautiful and accomplished woman, twenty-three years his junior, whose portrait has been preserved by Copley, while none exists of her famous husband." There were three children by this marriage, the eldest of whom, Fanny, died a nun in a Canadian convent a strange end for a freethinker's daughter. Ethan, in local tradition, is "said to have stood on his father's unmarked grave" in Cornwall "and appealed to him to return and tell whether there was another life." The father, Joseph Allen, had six sons. After Ethan, Ira was the most eminent. He planned and endowed the University of Vermont, at Burlington, and is recalled as "one of the handsomest men of his time," possessing at the same time much better

manners than his famous brother. Another of the six, Levi, became a Tory and died in jail at Burlington, in 1801, a prisoner for debt.

Matthew Lyon, another celebrated disturber of dry bones, though born in Ireland, lived for a time in Cornwall, and was married there. He became a member of Congress from Vermont, was mixed up in many broils, befriended Aaron Burr, and ended his days in Arkansas. Major-General John Sedgwick, killed at Spottsylvania, was the first in fame of a long line of Cornwall soldiers after Ethan Allen. He is buried at West Point, but Cornwall possesses his sword and a fine memorial. Of minor soldiers, judges, educators, and clergymen the list is legion. The Rev. Samuel Scoville, who married Henry Ward Beecher's daughter Harriet, was a son of Cornwall. So was the late E. B. Whitney, who became the best of judges on the New York City bench. He married Josepha Newcomb, daughter of Simon Newcomb, the astronomer. She is now a leading citizen of New Haven. Theodore Frelinghuysen Vaill, who made the Winsted "Herald" an outstanding country weekly, was another Cornwall product. Besides editing the "Herald" he wrote a comic translation of Virgil's Eneid that is classic in its merit.

So much for local eminencies. There are farther-reaching items to record. In

1817 there was established at Cornwall a Foreign Mission School, the outgrowth of some one, variously said to be E. W. Dwight or Samuel Mills, finding a darkskinned youth on the steps of Yale College one morning in 1810, weeping because he could find no way of getting an education, President Dwight having heard his plea, he was sent to Litchfield, where various good clergymen did the best that could be done for him. His name was Obookiah, and he was a stray from the Hawaiian Islands. He became quite famous in a way, and others followed him to America, the newcomers calling for education. The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions were interested, and the Congregationalist pastor at Cornwall, Rev. Timothy Stone, persuaded the people to donate the village academy, which was soon filled with strange pupils from round the world. Here gathered Kanakas, Hindus, Chinese, Malays, and single students from Oteheite and the Marquesas. Obookiah acquired an excellent education and assisted in shaping the new school. He died February 17, 1818. The distinguished Lyman Beecher preached his funeral sermon. He is

Numbers of American Indians attended the school. Two of these had notable careers and a tragic end. They were Elias Boudinot and John Ridge. Boudinot, after leaving school, spent two years at Andover Theological Seminary, but was not ordained. He helped to prepare translations from the New Testament into Cherokee, and also edited a hymn-book. Returning to Georgia, he set up a printing-press and published the "Cherokee Phoenix," partly in English and partly in the native alphabet devised by Sequoyah, whom we have honored in naming the big trees of California.

The agitation for removing the Cherokees to the Indian Territory was under way, and Boudinot, with John Ridge, who had become a lawyer, and prosperous, joined others in signing the treaty that led to the Nation's accepting the only alternative against destruction. One John Ross led the opposition. The Government enforced the treaty, which the Ross party deemed illegal, and, guarded by soldiers, among whom was the then First-Lieutenant John Sedgwick, the Indians were forced to remove. It is a black spot in our history. As a result

This was the end of all they had attained of learning and civilization at Cornwall.

Boudinot had married Miss Harriet R. Gold, of Cornwall, who had acquired the missionary spirit. The wedding of red and white made a great stir locally. Boudinot was burned in effigy. She died August 15, 1836, before the hegira, and was buried at Calhoun, Georgia. Boudinot now married a relative of his first wife, Miss Delight Sargent. She came East after his death, conducted a school at Troy, and survived until February 21, 1893.

The school came to its end after a prosperous season, as the result of a missionary desire to build up schools in heathen lands. The idea was opposed by Dr. Lyman Beecher, but Jeremiah Evarts, father of William M. Evarts, sided with the missionaries, and they carried their point. So a plan to enlarge the school, for which the bricks were baked, was abandoned. Mr. Evarts was at the time Secretary to the Board of Foreign Missions.

Nothing happens in Cornwall now. They do not appear even to dismiss their ministers. Mr. Starr, who resigned in 1915, was the thirteenth incumbent to

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Edited by EDMUND PEARSON

Reviewing the Reviewer

HE history of literature, said somebody (I believe it was Richard Grant Moulton), is the history of the triumph of authors over critics. There are few generalizations with such a large percentage of truth. The work of critics and of writers of book reviews, when it has been correct, has usually been forgotten. Their blunders live forever. Time and again writers of reviews, often themselves the authors of books, have either violently denounced or gently ridiculed the works of authors whose names are now glorified, while they have extravagantly praised men and women whose work was totally forgotten within a generation.

Despite their many mistakes, writers of reviews inspire a remarkable amount of interest. Hundreds of persons long to write book reviews, and seem to consider such writing the most fascinating of all occupations. Publishers and authors, however much some of them may pretend to indifference, are capable of a good deal of excitement upon the subject. And there are many who are writers neither of reviews nor of books, neither publishers nor editors, who look seriously upon book reviewing, and willingly engage in conversation about whatever this, that, or the other publication may have said about Mr. Thingamajig's new novel.

It is related that two men on an elevated train in New York had a bet as to whether every second person they met was writing a play. As they got off the train one of them turned to the conductor, saying:

slight importance. One of the best of the literary reviews lets the author reply to his critic, and the critic come back at the author, and other friends or enemies join in the row, for weeks thereafter. Often the original subject of debate is entirely lost in the shower of brickbats which fairly darkens the sun for days and days. I think that this is rather silly. Unless some absolute error of statement, or some important misquotation, occurs in the review of a book, the author who replies is wasting everybody's time. If Mr. Jones, a book reviewer, does not like Mr. Smith's novel or book of poems, Mr. Jones has a right to express his opinion. Mr. Smith has asked for that opinion by sending a copy to Mr. Jones. It is as foolish for Mr. Smith to try to argue the other around as it would be for him to try to make Jones take sugar in his coffee in the face of his profound distaste for it.

There never has been an entirely satisfactory book-reviewing publication, and there never will be one. New reviews begin from time to time, and they satisfy the critical for six weeks at the longest. At the end of that time they have stepped upon at least a hundred toes. They have praised three or four books which a score of highly respectable and cultivated persons are firmly convinced are extremely shocking, or mediocre, or idiotic. And they have denounced or jeered at two or three others which the same number of good citizens have taken to their hearts as they would a darling child. Henceforth these citizens have no recourse except to say, regretfully:

"How's your play coming along?" Without a quiver of his face, the man in the blue coat returned: "Why, I'm having an awful time with the dear, dead days!" the third act."

"Ah, there used to be good book reviewing once upon a time, long ago, in

I have little doubt that the story is true artistically, at all events. Certainly, there seem to be few cities where, on the street, on trains, or on street cars, you may not overhear some one say to another:

"Did you see what Blank said about Doodab's book in this week's 'Old Republic'?"

The constant discussion of Blank's opinion of Doodab, of Doodab's reply in defense, of Floppit's counter-attack on Blank, and of Nynkum's unexpected rally to one side or another, show that many persons regard the matter as of no

Did there? And were people satisfied with it when it was printed? Brander Matthews writes that he once heard so much about the excellent book reviewing of the golden past that he resolved to read some of it. He bought a forty-year file of a weekly "of lofty pretensions," and in the course of the next year turned every page in that regiment of volumes. The result was a disappointment.

"The book reviewing was painfully uninspired, with little brilliancy in expression and with little insight in appreciation; it was disfigured by a certain smug complacency which I find to be still a characteristic of the paper when

ever I chance now to glance at its pages But as I worked through this contemporary record of the unrolling of British literature from 1830 to 1870, what was most surprising was the fact that only infrequently indeed did the book review ers bestow full praise on the successive publications which we now hold to be among the chief glories of the Victorian reign, and that the books most lavishly eulogized were often those that have now sunk into oblivion."

It is important to remember the mistakes which the writers of reviews have perpetrated. It is well to bear in mind the outrageous attack upon Keats in the "Quarterly Review." It should not be forgotten that the "Saturday Review" condemned "Bleak House" as a "paltry, dry bundle of nonsense." As Mr. Matthews further pointed out, critics formerly looked only to the past, they rarely understood the present, and they distrusted the future. They were often at a loss in the presence of an original genius, and more apt to be right in their opinions about authors of the second

rank.

Neither the writer nor the reader of book reviews should take the matter too seriously. As the same sagacious critic whom I have already quoted twice has very usefully remarked, criticism is a branch of literature, but book reviewing is a branch of journalism. With many kinds of books-scientific and historical

writings, for example there are some nearly absolute standards of criticism. But with a work of the imagination, if the writer of a review says he enjoyed it, there is as little sense in making complaint as there would be in engaging in a dispute with him because he prefers chocolate ice-cream, while we are sure that vanilla is the only flavor fit for consumption.

1

Mr. Albert Mordell has made an unusually interesting and useful book, under the title "Notorious Literary Attacks." It consists of about fifteen examples of the occasions when criticsoften, rather eminent critics-have made conspicuous foozles. Here is Lockhart's attack on Leigh Hunt, "Blackwood's" versus Byron, a horrified American gentleman on the subject of Hawthorne's "Scarlet Letter," and John Morley against Swinburne. In his very able introduction Mr. Mordell points out

1 Notorious Literary Attacks. Edited, with an Introduction, by Albert Mordell. Boni & Liveright, New York. $2.50.