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The Undying Glory of Sir Francis Drake who sailed in this
ship to meet the Spanish Armada and sailed in her
home again.

The stars above will make thee known,

If man were silent here :
The sun himself cannot forget

His fellow-traveller

This fine painting of the Kevenge setting sail to meet the Spanish Armada was painted by Mr. Norman

Wilkinson for Sir Herbert Tree's collection of pictures at His Majesty's Theatre, London

The epitaph is by Hen lonson.

The Everyday Library


jfor loung Ipeopie



Temple Chambers, London College of the City of New York

fiditors of the ff}ook. of Knowledge




Text and Illustrations in this work are protected
by copyright as follows:

Copyright, 1915, 1916, by THE GROLIEH SOCIETY

Copyright, 1916, by THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK Co.

Copyright, 1916, by M. PERHY MILLS

Copyright, 1916, by FRANCES G. WICKES

Copyright, 1866, 1886, 1890, 1894, 1897, 1904, by


Copyright, 1880, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Copyright, 1913, by CEKTURY Co.
Copyright, 1898, by SMALL, MAYNARD & Co.
Copyright, 1897, by LEE & SHEPARD
Copyright, 1915, 1916, by BROWN BROS.
Copyright, by RECORD PRESS
Copyright, by H. C. WHITE
Copyright, by CURTIS & CAMERON

The poem
Greenleaf Whitti
fellow, Oliver
Lucy Larcom, JoU
by special permi
poems by Rober
eluded in this wo
Sons. The poem

by Ralph Waldo Emerson, John G. Saxe, John
r, James Russell Lowell, Henry Wadsworth Long-
ndcll Holmes, Bret Harte. Thomas Bailey Aldrich,

Burroughs, and John White Chadwick, are reprinted
sion of Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin Company. The

Louis Stevenson and Richard Henry Stoddard in-
k, are reprinted by permission of Charles Scribner's

by Charlotte Perkins Stetson and John Bannister

Tabb are included in this work by permission of Small, Maynard &
Company. The poems by Margaret Widdemer and Robert Hamilton
are included by permission of The Century Company.

ffitn of JHarfc

The wise, the just, the pious, and the brave
Live in their deaths, and flourish in the grave."


The Life of the Story Poet (Longfellow) 10

Explorer of Half the World (Captain Cook) 17

Hans Andersen 26

The Rider Across Europe (Constantine) 36

Leonardo and His Wonders 44

The Picture Boy (Murillo) 55

The Great Adventure of R. L. S 62

Raphael and His Pictures 72

The Man Who Found Babylon (Sir Henry Layard) 84

The Cathedral Builders ... 98

Pasteur and His Wonderfur Lamp 108

Garibaldi, King of Liberty ' 116

William Morris .............. 127

The King Who Tried Again (Robert Bruce) 132

Daniel Boone 142

The Music Boy (Mozart) ............ 150

Marconi's Invisible Horses 156

An Empire Builder of Modern Days (Prince Bismarck) 164

The Little Old Man (Sir Joshua Reynolds) 176

Charles Stuart's Wife 184

The Immortal Peasant Boy (Haydn) 191

Ludwig Beethoven 198

Plain John Wesley 205

Augustus St. Gaudens 212

Daniel Webster 220

The Mad Sailor Man (Sir Francis Drake) 225

The Immortal Tinker (John Bunyan) 238

Sir John Alexander Macdonald 246

A Soldier Who Became a Painter (John Trumbull) . . . . . . . 254

A Boy Leader in the American Revolution (Alexander Hamilton) . . . 258

The Harum Scarum Man (George Morland) ........ 267

A Man Alone (Sir Douglas Mawson) 278

David Livingstone of Africa 292

Captain Cervantes ... 302

An Orphan Boy Who Became Famous (Andrew Jackson) . . . . 311

Hans Holbein, The Younger 320


The Poet Whom Children Love Best 10

Captain Cook Lands On the Pacific Islands 21

Hans Andersen Listens to a Story 26

Hans Andersen's Little People 30, 31

Gallery of Pictures from Andersen's Fairy Tales 34, 35

The Vision of Constantine 36

The Great Pillar Moved by Constantine 40

In the Cathedral of Constantine 41

Portrait of Mona Lisa 44

Leonardo's Great Picture of the Last Supper 50, 51

Murillo, the Painter of Beggar Boys 59

Murillo's Pictures 61

R. L. S. in Samoa 62

Home of a King of Story-Tellers 65

People With Whom R. L. S. Spent His Closing Years 67

Raphael's Last Great Gift to the World 72

The Scene That Will Never Fade From the World 75

Raphael's Glorious Picture of a Hero 79

The Colqnna Madonna 81

The King of Assyria Leaves His Palace 84

Writing a Page in the Book of Knowledge' 89

The Life of Assyria by Those Who Lived There 93

Little Models of Cathedrals ............ 98

Towers and Spires of Three Cathedrals 103

Twenty Kinds of Arches ............. 107

Here Sleeps Pasteur 108

Garibaldi Leads His Thousand Heroes ......... 116

The Man Who Led Italy to Unity and Freedom 121

Inside William Morris' Palace of Art 131

How Scotland's Heroes Met on London Bridge 132

The National Hero of Scotland in Chains 136

A King Goes Out to Seek Revenge 137

Robert Bruce Passes From the Great World 141

A Great Pioneer 142

Scenes From the Life of Daniel Boone 146

The Music Boy At the Court of Kings 150

William Marconi 156

The Dawn of a New Hope for Mankind 161

Proclamation of William I, Emperor of Germany 164

The Iron Chancellor 167

A Famous Artist's Famous Friends 176

The Unhappy Wife of King Charles I . . " 184

King Charles in Happiness and Captivity 187

The King's Wife Hides From Cromwell's Men ....... 188

Haydn Looks Out On a Storm At Sea 195

Haydn and the Prince Who Helped Him 197

The King of Music Composing Immortal Melodies 108




The Spirit of Beethoven Presiding Over Music 203

Homes and Haunts of John Wesley 207

Wesley Preaching At Home and Abroad 210

Samuel Chapin Statue by Augustus St. Gaudens 212

The Birthplace of Daniel Webster 220

The Slave-Driven Galleys of Spain 229

The Proud Spanish Galleon 231

The Spanish Armada in Storm, Fire and Ruin 233

A Commander of the Spanish Armada Yields Up His Sword .... 235

Young John Bunyan and His Home 238

The Immortal Preacher of Bedford 241

Bunyan with His Father and Daughter 243

Sir John Alexander Macdonald 246

The Fathers of the Confederation in Conference at Quebec 251

The Battle of Bunker Hill 254

The Resignation of Washington from the Army 257

Alexander Hamilton 258

An Artist's Studies of Man's Noble Friend 269

Two Famous Pictures of Indoors and Out 271

George Morland's Pictures of Country Life 277

The Climber Up the Great White Wall 278

The Sights That Few Men Live to See 283

The Birds That Astonish the Traveller 285

Livingstone's Fight with a Lion 292

Livingstone's Life Among the People ' . 296

Livingstone's Home in Darkest Africa .......... 297

A Great Man's Farewell to His Friend 302

Adventures of Don Quixote 39

Andrew Jackson as He Appeared at New Orleans 3 J 3

Statue at Washington to Andrew Jackson 3 T 7

The Hermitage * 319

The Burgomaster's Madonna . 320


The Undying Glory of Sir Francis Drake . . . . ' . Frontispiece
The Immortal Glories of Raphael facing page 74



Longfellow Monument in Washington, D. C., erected to the memory of the poet by
Association in 1909. It is one of the most beautiful monuments in the national





Longfellow s home at Cambridge, Massachusetts



IT is a rare and happy gift which
enables a poet to win and hold the
love of a world of children. That is
what Longfellow did. No other poet's
works are so famous in the nursery,
in the school, and in the children's
homes throughout the English-speak-
ing world as his. It is not that he
wrote childish poems, for grown-ups
love his works as much as the chil-
dren. But Longfellow told a beau-
tiful story in simple but beautiful
language, and, without trying to
preach, he taught us all, in his own
way, to love beauty and goodness and
mercy and right.

He was an American, but he is
the poet of the children of the English-
speaking world, a poet with a child's
heart, a profound scholar whose soul
thrilled with melody. He was a man
of happy nature, loving the beautiful
things of life, seeking gladness and
trying to make others share his joys.
The first picture we get of him is
in his cradle, when his mother noted
that "He is an active rogue, who
wishes for nothing so much as singing
and dancing." His poems do not all
tend to singing and dancing, but they
make for a happier world.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was
born at Portland, Maine, on Feb-

Copyright, 1916, by The Grolier Society.

ruary 27, 1807. His parents were
of English stock of the best Puritan
type, which had put away all narrow-
mindedness and superstition, and had
kept the simple goodness and righteous
living of happy, God-fearing people.
Longfellow owed much of his beautiful
character and purity of heart to the
charming influences of his home life,
and especially to his mother.

He was one of eight children. Their
father, who was a good, well-meaning
lawyer, did all in his power to make
them brave and upright citizens,
hating deceit and wrong, and scorning
to owe a debt to anyone.

Although Longfellow was a man of
peace as he grew up, he was a little
warrior as a child, and when there was
talk at home of war between America
and England, he powdered his little
five-year-old head, in imitation of a
soldier's wig, shouldered his little toy
gun, and declared that he was ready
to march against England. But, to
relieve the minds of all young folks
who do not like war, let us add
that little Henry would not have
made a very wonderful soldier. You
had only to let a gun bang, and he
would scuttle away to have his ears
filled with cotton-wool. He could not
bear the sound of guns.

When he reached the age of eighteen,
Longfellow had to go to college. In the
ordinary course he would have gone to
Harvard, or some other of the larger colleges
of the period, but at that time a young and
struggling academy, Bowdoin College, situ-
ated at Brunswick, Maine, gained the help
of Henry's father as one of its trustees,
and so, of course. Longfellow and his
brothers were sent there. Henry was very
studious. He had already written a little
poem, and had it published in a newspaper:
not a good poem, but not bad for a boy of
ten. Still, although he wrote poetry, and
although he worked diligently at college,
mastering Greek and Latin and history and
such science as was taught, he had no thought
of turning his learning to literary account.
Nor had he any great ambition in those
days, for he wrote home to his father, who
wanted him to become a lawyer, saying
that he did not
want to be either
a lawyer or a
minister or a doctor,
but a farmer would
he be. Imagine
the author of
"Evangeline" and
" Hiawatha " as a
sturdy and bearded
farmer, talking all
his days about pigs
and cows, oats and
turnips! But
there must have
come a sudden rush
of changed feeling,
for less than a year
after this, Henry was writing to say that he
wanted to be an author and write books.

Perhaps chance rather than determined
plan fixed his career for him. There is no
doubt that Longfellow had a genius for trans-
lating the works of other poets, and one
of the trustees of his college, seeing a trans-
lation of Horace from Henry's pen, declared
that the youth must go to Europe, study
modern languages, and return as pro-
fessor to teach the students at Bowdoin
College. That was exactly the course
that Longfellow followed, at his good
father's expense. He had a splendid tour of
learning in France and Spain, in Italy and
Germany, and at twenty-two he took up
his position as professor of modern lan-
guages in the place where he had been a
student. His salary was $1,000 a year, so that
at the beginning of his career he was free
from money troubles, that have vexed the


lives of many men of genius. He proved a
model professor, an eager scholar himself,
with the art of making his students love the
things that interested him. Two things
show us how thorough he was. There was
French grammar that he liked, so he


translated one himself. There was not
enough literature to introduce Spanish, so he
wrote a Spanish " reader."

Hard as he worked at his duties, he did
not lose his interest in all other things.
Gradually, in spite of all his work, the deep
vein of poetry in his nature asserted itself.
There had been no poetry and not much
imagination in his family, but while in the
first flush of manhood he began to write
verses, and soon established an enviable

A year after taking up his duties at
college, Longfellow married, and there
followed four blissful years. Then, his fame
having spread
abroad, he was
offered a better
post, that of pro-
fessor of modern
languages at Har-
vard University at
$1,250 a year. He
was allowed to take
a year's holiday
before entering
upon his duties, in
order that he might
still further extend
his knowledge of
foreign languages,
and, accompanied
by his wife, he came
back to Europe. But the first tragedy of
his life now darkened his path. His young
wife was seized with illness, and died at

It was a stunning, terrible blow to the
young poet. He never spoke of his loss, but
he poured out his heart in a lovely poem,
called " Footsteps of Angels," in which
there is a beautiful reference to his lost

Fortunately, the poet had not immedi-
ately to return to his home, but was able
to lighten the burden of his grief by hurry-
ing from place to place, his journeys and
his labours helping to loosen the bonds of
his heavy sorrow. He prepared the way
for continued studies at home by collecting
foreign books of dead and forgotten authors,
and sent to America two cases containing
his treasures. But the ship by which they
travelled was like the " schooner Hesperus "




of his own poem. It sank with all on
board, and his precious cases of volumes,
stored with ancient and varied lore, lay
deep-buried in the sea, within sight of
Boston Harbour. It was a serious loss to
Longfellow, but happily he had delayed
his departure, and so escaped the wreck.

The poet found solace in travel and study,
and returned home, at the end of the year,
a ripe scholar, to become professor at
Harvard, where he threw himself into his
work with all the energy of which he
was capable. Handsome, gentle, cultured,
refined, he immediately made friends. His

new students de- __

clared, with en-
thusiasm, that he
could "talk French
with Frenchmen,
Italian with
Italians, German
with Germans,
Spanish with the
Spaniards." The
new professor did
not believe in
simply supervising
the work of the
teachers; he
meant himself to
be a teacher, and
to teach in his own
way. He must have
his own study into
which he could ask
students. His
brother Samuel was
one of the students.

" Sam," said the
professor, " find me
a c 1 a s s-r o o m ,
please, and twelve
good boys whom I
can teach German
in my own way."

Sam found that
there was not a
room to spare. So the professor took the best
parlour in the college, the board-room, where
grave, severe-looking gentlemen in wigs had
for generations been wont to sit and settle
the affairs of the university. To this awful
chamber of authority the young poet took
his scholars, and here he was their guide and
instructor in college hours, as he was their
friend and companion out of hours.

When Emerson was at the same college,
his master used to make him run errands
for him. But Longfellow and his
students were called " the society of

scholars," and the delighted learners used
proudly to say of him, " He is one of us ! "
Harvard University was not then like the
English universities ; not all the professors
could have rooms in the college buildings ;
so Longfellow went to Cambridge, Massa-
chusetts, which is near at hand, sought
out a delightful old white-frame house,
and asked for a room. He was such
a handsome, well-dressed young man
that the good landlady doubted at first
whether he would be grave and staid
enough for her home ; but when she learned
that he was the poet- professor from Harvard
she was delighted,

whose sad death was the deep grief of the poet's life

and showed him
through the house.
Room after room
they saw, and
Longfellow sighed
for each, only to be
told, " But this is
not for you." At
last they came to
the best room of all.
" Now," she said,
" this is for you.
This is General
room ! "

It was true.
Washington, " the
Father of Our Coun-
try," had his head-
quarters in that
house during the
and had occupied
that very room. In
that historic cham-
ber of the Craigie
House Longfellow
made his home.

He was happy
in his work at
college, happy in
the poems and
stories that he wrote, but his was a
heart that could not live without love.
He married, eight years after the
death of his first wife, a beautiful woman
of noble character, Frances Elizabeth
Appleton. Her father was a worthy,
wealthy man, and bought them, as a wed-
ding gift, the fine old house in which
Longfellow had lived at Cambridge. The
marriage was an ideally happy one, and
Longfellow had not a single care. His work at
the college flourished, his poems multiplied,
his fame grew until he became recognised



as the foremost poet of America. His
works went to England as fast as they were
written, and he was as famous and as much
beloved over there as in his own home circle.
His poems sold in enormous numbers ;
they were translated ________ - _______

into many lan-
guages. Little chil
dren lisped them in
the nursery ; many
Frenchmen learned
English to be able
to read one of his
poems describing
the life of French
settlers under the
British flag in

How well Long-
fellow understood
the child's heart !
He had five children
of his own, and in
one of his most
delightful poems,
"The Children's
Hour," he tells us
how, when he was
resting between
the daylight and
the dark of a
winter afternoon,
the rogues would
steal down from
their nursery and
raid his study, how
they would
scramble on to his
devour him with kisses as he sat in his chair.
The study was his castle, the chair was
his fortress, and he sings to his invaders :

Do you think, oh, blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,

Such an old moustache as I am
Is not a match for you all ?

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon
In the round tower of my heart.

And there I will keep you for ever.

Yes, for ever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in dust away !

He was a comrade to his children, as
Darwin was to his. He never preached to
them. He wished that they should copy his
example, so he lived a life whose every
action might safely be imitated in their own.
Although he wore no crown, Longfellow


knees, and almost


had a throne, a throne of chestnut wood,
grown in the main street of Cambridge,
Massachusetts. It was made from the
" spreading chestnut tree " of which he
sang in " The Village Blacksmith." When
' the tree had to be

I cut down, the chil-
dren of the town
put their pennies to-
I gether and had a
chair made from it
for him. The chil-
| dren's chair was the
poet's throne, and
he was proud and
glad to occupy it.

After a while he
gave up his pro-
fessorship, and de-
voted himself en-
tirely to his writings.
That kept him busy
enough, we may well
imagine, but we
could never guess
from his work how
pressed he often
was for time not
because his private
affairs rendered
hurry necessary,
but because the
thoughtless requests
of strangers would
take up half his
day. Vast numbers
of people would
write worrying him for his autograph, or
for scraps of poetry ; they would insist on
going to look at him, as if he were a statue
or a waxwork figure.

His home was always open to callers,
and some of the most famous men and
women of the age visited him. He kept
a diary, but made surprisingly poor use of
it. As a rule, the barest entries record his
experiences. They seem to have been
simply jottings to refresh his memory as
he turned back the pages. Here and there,
however, we do catch a glimpse of a living
picture, and one such tells of his meeting
with Louis Kossuth, the great Hungarian
patriot, who tried nearly all his life to
make his country a nation in itself inde-
pendent of Austria.

Kossuth, who was- .an exile from the
land of his birth, .came to England, after
long imprisonment, and went also to
America, trying to rouse the world to
sympathy with the woes of Hungary. It



was while Kossuth was in America that
Longfellow met him. Kossuth pleaded the
cause of his country for two hours-
standing on a table !

But Longfellow did not make all his
famous friendships in America. He several
times visited England, where the universi-
ties and many of the leading men combined
to do him honour, and to show him how
much he was admired and beloved.

One of the compliments he received had
its comical side. He had been visiting the
House of Lords, and as he was leaving a
labouring man stepped out from a little

the poem, and was proud to be able to
recite it to its author. The workman was
only a big child, after all.

Little things show the real nature of a
man, and here is a story illustrating the
watchful, well-ordered kindness of the poet.
He heard that a poor, friendless German
woman was charged with stealing apples,
and that she was horrified at the charge,
not knowing that she was stealing when
she gathered the fruit. Longfellow hurried
down to the police-court, but was too
late ; the case had been tried, the woman
had been fined, and some charitable person



knot of people near the doorway and asked
if he were the poet. Longfellow replied,
and the man begged to be allowed to shake
hands with him, a request which the gentle
poet readily granted. But when his humble
admirer suddenly began to thunder out
the first verse of " Excelsior," poor Long-
fellow fled in confusion ! People used to
worry the poet with letters about " Ex-
celsior," asking such foolish questions as,
" Did the youth gain his purpose, or die
before he crossed the pass ? " This work-
ing man, however, had not troubled his
mind with stupid problems ; he had learned

in court had paid the fine for her. But
the woman was dreadfully unhappy, for
the case made a thief of her, which at heart
she was not. Longfellow took up the case
on his own account. He found that the
trees on which the apples grew were on
open, common land, not on enclosed pro-
perty, and that the poor woman had a
perfect right to pick the fruit. The next
day he went to the court again, and per-
suaded the magistrate to re-try the case,
cancel the conviction, and so send the
woman away to her home happy, with
her reputation unspoiled.



Very happy and beautiful were the
years of the poet's life now, with his hand-
some, gifted, sympathetic wife and his
winsome children. But no such bliss can
continue long in this world, and soon the
poet was again struck to the heart by a
terrible tragedy. His wife, while playing
with her children, set her dress on fire.
Hearing a despairing crv, the poet dashed
into the room, threw his coat about the
poor sufferer, and put out the flames. But
it was too late, and the poet's heart was
broken when his beautiful wife lay dead
before him.

He lived now only for his children and
his work. He survived his wife more
than twenty years, his fame constantly
growing, his good deeds extending to
wider and wider horizons ; while his
poems braced the hearts and cheered the
spirits of the English-speaking world. He
put a new song into the mouth of the
humble and despairing when he gave the
world his magic "Psalm of Life." We
all remember its famous lines :

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Online LibraryArthur MeeThe Everyday library for young people (Volume 3) → online text (page 1 of 33)