last half
of his life was spent in the most assiduous, minute, exacting labors.
The self-watchful diary gives place to a public chronicle, prosaic as a
ship's log-book--and, like the log-book, the shorthand record of
adventures, heroisms, and sublimities.

In the Puritan of Winthrop's type the flame of spiritual emotion was
harnessed and made to serve. The drudgery of founding New England was
done by men whose hearts were touched with fire,--men such as Lowell
sings of:--

"Who, dowered with every gift of passion,
In that fierce flame can forge and fashion
Of self and sin the anchor strong;
Can thence compel the driving force
Of daily life's mechanic course."

Winthrop set out with a great ideal--shown with statesmanlike breadth in
the "Considerations," and with apostolic fervor in the "Model of
Christian Charity." His conception was cramped into conformity with the
far narrower views of the ministers who were the leaders in the colony.
Yet it was his ideal and his personality which gave most to success.

The letters between Winthrop and his wife are an example of human love
perfected by a higher love. He writes to her: "Neither can the sea drown
thy husband, nor enemies destroy, nor any adversity deprive thee of thy
husband." Shakspere has no note like that. Margaret writes from her
country home to her husband in London: "My good husband, cheer up thy
heart in the expectation of God's goodness to us, and let nothing dismay
or discourage thee; if the Lord be with us, who can be against us? My
grief is the fear of staying behind thee, but I must leave all to the
good providence of God." She was obliged to stay behind in England,
awaiting the birth of a child. On the eve of sailing he writes her: "I
purpose, if God will, to be with thee upon Thursday come sen'night, and
then I must take my leave of thee for a summer's day and a winter's day.
The Lord our good God will (I hope) send us a happy meeting again in his
good time. Amen! Being now ready to send away my letters, I received
thine; the reading of it has dissolved my head into tears. Can write no
more. If I live, I will see thee ere I go. I shall part from thee with
sorrow enough; be comfortable, my most sweet wife, our God will be with
thee. Farewell."

A few months later, across the pages of the Journal, full of the cares
and anxieties of the struggling colony, shines a ray of pure joy.
Margaret has come! And the whole community r