turning round at the moment observed his daughter deadly pale and
leaning by the door. He immediately drew her out of the room, and when
she had somewhat recovered in the fresh air, walked with her across
Mound to Castle Street. "He never spoke all the way home," she says,
"but every now and then I felt his arm tremble, and from that time I
fancied he began to treat me more like a woman than a child. I thought
he liked me better, too, than he had ever done before."

There have been several attempts to procure the return of the manuscript
to this country. Mr. Winthrop, in 1860, through the venerable John
Sinclair, archdeacon, urged the Bishop of London to give it up, and
proposed that the Prince of Wales, then just coming to this country,
should take it across the Atlantic and present it to the people of
Massachusetts. The Attorney-General, Sir Fitzroy Kelley, approved the
plan, and said it would be an exceptional act of grace, a most
interesting action, and that he heartily wished the success of the
application. But the bishop refused. Again, in 1869, John Lothrop
Motley, then minister to England, who had a great and deserved
influence there, repeated the proposition, at the suggestion of that
most accomplished scholar, Justin Winsor. But his appeal had the same
fate. The bishop gave no encouragement, and said, as had been said nine
years before, that the property could not be alienated without an act of
Parliament. Mr. Winsor planned to repeat the attempt on his visit to
England in 1877. When he was at Fulham the bishop was absent, and he was
obliged to come home without seeing him in person.

In 1881, at the time of the death of President Garfield, Benjamin Scott,
chamberlain of London, proposed again in the newspapers that the
restitution should be made. But nothing came of it.

Dec. 21, 1895, I delivered an address at Plymouth, on the occasion of
the two hundred and seventy-fifth anniversary of the landing of the
Pilgrims upon the rock. In preparing for that duty, I read again, with
renewed enthusiasm and delight, the noble and touching story, as told by
Governor Bradford. I felt that this precious history of the Pilgrims
ought to be in no other custody than that of their children. But the
case seemed hopeless. I found myself compelled by a serious physical
infirmity to take a vacation, and to get a rest from public cares and
duties, which was impossible while I stayed at home. When I went abroad
I determined to