The Press., 1885-05-28
JAMES T. .FlEi,al

JAMES T. FIELD.
 The recent failure Of the book publish ing concern of James R. Osgood & Go. causes more regret than surprise. But it calls to mind former successes, and long list of publications which may be found m any good library. James T. Fields, was early the leading miud i1 this concern, and thoroughly understood in his day the pulse of the reading public To him probably as much as to any one man, Boston owes the position she occupies in the publishing world. v JamesT. Fields was born in Portsmouth New Hampshire, OH Dec. 31, 1916. Atan early age he entered as the youngest clerk the firm in the sOld Corner Bookstore" where later on he was partner. For over half century the ssold c )rner' has had a bookstore in 1928, Carter& Hendee; in 1883, Allen < Ticknor; then Ticknor, Reed & Fields, followed by E. P. Dutton X Co.,, and A. Williams & Go. In 1883, Cupples, Upham < Co.,, who now occupy the site, succeeded the last named firm.
 Mr. Fields Yesterdays with Authors" shows the extended acquaintance he had with some of the best known English writers of the present century and Miss Milford, in her "Reminiscences, thus pleasantly refers to the subject of this sketch :-
 "One fine summer afternoon, shortly after made this acquisiti on (referring to 8 copy of Motherwelis poems) two young Americans made their appearance with let ters of introduction from some honored friends. There was no mention made of profession or calling but I soon found that they were not only men of intelligence and education, but of literary taste and knowledge. One especially had the look, the air, the conversation of poet. We talked on many subjects, and got at last to the delicate question of American re- prints of English authors, on which much to their delight, and ittle to their sur prise, there was no disagreement, for my poor part pleading guilty to the taking pleasure in such diffusion of my humble works. Besides, continued |, you send us better things, things otherwlse mat tainable. could only procure the fine poems of Motherwell in this Boston edit ion.' My two visitors smiled at each other. This is 8 most singular coincidence, cried the one whom I knev, by instinct, to be poet; I am younger partner ill this Boston house, and at my pressing in stance this book was reprinted. MT. Fields visit was necessarily brief !; but that short interview has laid the founda- ton of friendship which will, think, last as loug as my frail life, and of which the benefit is all on my side. He sends me charming letters, verses which are fast ripening into true poetry, excellent books, aud this autumn he brought back himself, and came to pay me second visit, and he must come again, for of all the kindnesses with which he loaded me, like his com pany best" .1e.
 On Mir. Field.' return from his first triI across the water, the ship in which he sailed struck on the c past of Newfoundland while running ill fog. The leak caused by this disaster was so severe, that it was with great difficulty the ship was kep afoat and brought into port. 'The twe special veins," says writer, Gin whicI his genius produces it's richest ores, art the playful and the pathetic, not the broae comic or the sharply witty, but the quie1 and genial humored, happily yelled 1T smooth lines, and affordmg continually mirthful surprises. The other vein is tht pathetic, and many of his shorter are fint illustrations of his well-snbdued power tt touch the minor chords of the heart. These traits are noticeable in the follow ing ballad, suggested doubtless by thu t.
 We were crowded in the cabin, .-
 Not soul wonld dare to sleep:
 twas midnight on the waters, And 8 storm was on the deep.
 II is fearfnl thing in winter ~ To be shatter'd in the blast,
 And to hear the rattling trumpet
 Thunder, s'cut away the mast !'
 So we shudder'd d there in silence; Il For the stoutest held his breath,
 While the hungry sea was roaring,
 And the breakers talk'd with death. AS thus we sat in darkness,
 Each one busy in his prayers,
 "We are lost :" the captain shouted, As he stagger'd down the stairs.
 But his little daughter whisper'd, As she took his icy hand:
 | 'Isn't God upon the ocean,
 Just the same as on the land 2" | Then we kiss'd the little maiden,
 And we spoke in better cheer;
 E., And we anchor'd safe in harbor, When the morn was shining clear. Mir. Fields died suddenly at his residence 148 Charles st., Boston, April "A 1881. MT Longfellow thus wrote in memory of hi friend and publisher :-
 Until we meet again That is the meaning VI ttiC 1Hlu1IldS WOIUS, 'bHtat IucA Icpcdt Atparting in the street. 3s sss An, yes, till then! but when death intervenins Bends us asunder, with that ceaseless pain -~ I We wait for thee again. The friends who leave us do not feel the sorrow , Of parting as we feel it, who must stay
 Lamenting day by day,
 And knowing when. we wait upon the morroy We shall not find in its accustomed place
 The one beloved face.
 MT. Fields has jnstly been called thu .sapostle of cheerfulness. 1" He loved peace and practised in his daily life that quality of character which he himself thus de scribes :--
 How sweet and gracious, even in common
 speech,
 Is that fine sense which men call courtesy Wholesome as air and genial as the light, Welcome in every cline as health of flowers, ,- It transmutes aliens into trusting friends And gives it's owner passport round the globe | --. --------.-
 SENATOR HAWLEY ON THE TARIFF.
 A large number of New Hayeners gath cred at the Athenenm, in that city Tues day. evening (12th), to listen to Senator J l R. HaWley's address on the tariff: a