_Theodore Winthrop._--Theodore Winthrop (1828-61) deserves more than passing mention, not so much for what he actually accomplished as for what his brief life gave promise of doing. Born in New Haven, Connecticut, a descendant of Governor John Winthrop of Connecticut and at twenty a graduate of Yale, he travelled much abroad, went to Panama in the employment of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, and afterward sojourned in California and Oregon, visiting also the island of Vancouver and some of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s stations. He was admitted to the bar in 1855, but became more fond of politics and literature than of law. For several years, he worked on his novels; but though one was accepted for publication, none appeared in his lifetime. At the opening of the war he went to the front with the Seventh New York Regiment, and fell, bravely fighting, at Great Bethel. His descriptions of his march to Washington, in _The Atlantic Monthly_, had attracted much attention, and after his death his novels appeared in rapid succession, “Cecil Dreeme” in 1861 and “John Brent” and “Edwin Brothertoft” in 1862. The first is a gruesome tale of life in New York, full of broad sweep and passion, immature but not devoid of power. “John Brent,” the best of his stories, is an imaginative tale into which he wove a record of his Western experiences; it “had the merit, in its day especially, of delineating Western scenes and characters with sympathy and skill, at a time when the West was almost virgin soil to literature.” “Edwin Brothertoft” is a melodramatic story of the American Revolution, at times crude in expression, but strong in plot and in its play of light and shade. Had Winthrop lived, our literature beyond question would have been far richer. He comprehended as did few others the deep throbbing life of America, not only in its externals but in its less obvious features; and abating his youthful “breeziness,” he would doubtless have reproduced some parts of that life on enduring canvas.