ome after us.

Strangely enough as our educational advantages have increased, as more
avenues of self support have been opened to women, so has the ratio of
divorce to marriage also grown larger, thus apparently furnishing
conclusive proof that it is not legislative reform that is now needed.
It is not necessary to argue that no legislation can operate in any way
to strengthen those family ties which have their foundation in the
social and domestic affections. On the other hand, any thing in the
direction of education of the young tending to strengthen love of home
and domestic life, and to do away with the prevalent tendency to what
has been termed individualism, will be a step in the right path and will
aid in lessening the evils which so many wrongly ascribe to faulty
legislation. If any further proof of this fact is needed it is found in
the knowledge that by far the larger part of the seekers for relief come
from our native population, while none but those who have some practical
experience in the realities of the divorce court room can know how
intolerable are the burdens from which this relief is sought.

* * * * *

SHEM DROWNE AND HIS HANDIWORK.

By Elbridge H. Goss.

The weird imaginings and romantic theories of our great story-teller,
Hawthorne, must not be taken as veritable and indisputable history.
Some of the Boston newspapers have recently run riot in this respect.
Hawthorne, in his "Drowne's Wooden Image," in "Mosses from an Old
Manse," says the figure of "Admiral Vernon," which has stood on the
corner of State and Broad streets, Boston, for over a century, was the
handiwork of one Shem Browne, "a cunning carver of wood." Upon this
statement of the romancer, for there is no authentic history to warrant
it, one paper, in an article entitled "A Funny Old Man," says: "Deacon
Shem Drowne, the Carver. Concerning the origin of the carved figure of
Admiral Vernon there can be no doubt. History, ancient records, and
fiction all record the presence in Boston of one Deacon Shem Drowne,
whose business it was to supply the tradesmen and tavern-keepers of the
day with similar carved images to indicate their calling, or by which to
identify their places of business."[1]

Another, discoursing of this same image, as "Our Oldest Inhabitant,"
after attributing it to the same man's workmanship, states: "Deacon Shem
Drowne, whose name suggests pious and patriarchal, if not naut