New Haverhill stands on the banks of the Merrimack, at a distance of some sixteen miles from the sea. The Merrimack deserves a line as the most noted water-power stream in the world. Haverhill lies on the north edge of Essex county, itself the north-eastern corner of Massachusetts. In the Haverhill of to-day there are over 250 firms engaged in the manufacture of shoes, and giving employment to 18,000 operatives, and distributing annually over 2,225,000 dollars in wages, and shipping 300,000 cases of completed boots and shoes. It is a big city, thirty-three miles off Boston by rail. The situation is picturesque, with an undulating surface, watered by lovely lakes and the glorious river. Haverhill rejoices in a Town Hall, one of the handsomest of its kind in New England, and twenty-four church organisations divided among eleven different denominations. No city in the commonwealth has grown so fast within the last ten years. I learn from a local paper that its population is “energetic, prosperous, and cultivated.” One of the things which seem to have struck Mr. Alderman Gurteen, as indeed it would some of us, was a handsome and commodious building known as the Old Ladies’ Home, intended to provide for such women as need it, a home in their declining years. Again, there is a Children’s Aid Society, formed and managed by women, to furnish a real home for destitute children. Haverhill has also a noble hospital, where almost every religious society in the city supports free beds. Such is the Haverhill of to-day. It has suffered from fire; from Indians, who rushed through it with their murderous tomahawks: (one of the things Mr. Alderman Gurteen was taken to see at the exhibition in connection with the anniversary, was the basket of grass in which Hannah Duston, one of Haverhill’s ancient heroines, carried the scalps of the Indians in the course of an unnatural conflict with the English). It was, too, a little Haverhill girl, saved in a cellar from massacre of the Indians by a negro girl, that was the ancestress of John Lothrop Motley. The whole world owes Haverhill much.