making a second journey
into Spain, when the United States mail brought him a letter, conveying
the tidings of the death of both Mr. Phillips and Mr. Sampson, and the
failure of the house.

The panic of 1857 had made sad havoc with the book trade generally, and
those firms which weathered the storm were sorely pressed. Phillips and
Sampson met with heavy losses, but struggled on in the hope of
recovering lost ground. But, in 1859, the death of the senior members of
the firm seemed to paralyze its prosperity, and the worst quickly
followed.

Mr. Lee had received no warning of the impending calamity, and for the
time was much overcome by the announcement. He foresaw what it implied,
however, and at once returned to Boston, to find himself a heavy loser
by the financial disaster.

Still undaunted, he gathered up what remained of his fortune and, in
February, 1860, he became a member of the firm of Crosby, Nichols and
Company, which had purchased many of the stereotype plates belonging to
the late firm of Phillips, Sampson and Company, and which now took the
name of Crosby, Nichols, Lee and Company. But the long stagnation of
trade, succeeded by losses in the southern states, consequent upon the
political troubles of those days, bore heavily upon the new firm; and,
in the spring of 1861, Mr. Lee left the business and again trod the
streets of Boston without a dollar that he could call his own! Thus,
after twenty years of business activity, his fortune was gone, and
nothing remained for him to do except to begin life over again.

During the next few months Mr. Lee surveyed the field about him,
endeavoring to discern what could be accomplished with no other capital
save brains. A decision was soon reached, and it resulted from one of
those little incidents of life, which, although rare indeed, make life
all the more worth living. I hope I betray no breach of trust in
recalling it.

While walking down Washington street one day Mr. Lee encountered his
friend of many years.

"What are you doing now, Charlie?" he asked.

"Nothing; and I'm as poor as a church mouse," was the reply.

"But, look here, Charlie, keep up your courage. I haven't got much
myself; but I'll go halves with you. Come up to my room to-night, and
we'll talk matters over."

The friends parted, to meet again within a few hours in the glow of the
gas-light. Affairs were candidly and earnestly discussed, plans were
laid, and then and there began the fi