It is a pleasure to point out Colonel Hutchinson as a Puritan, though there was little in his dress to indicate the significance of such a name for him, and certainly he was not a Roundhead, with his light brown hair “softer than the finest silk and curling in great loose rings at the ends—a very fine, thick-set head of hair.” He loved dancing, fencing, shooting, and hawking; he was a charming musician; he had judgment in painting, sculpture, architecture, and the “liberal arts.” He delighted in books and in gardening and in all rarities; in fact, he seemed to care for everything that was “lovely and of good report.” “He was wonderfully neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit, and had a very good fancy in it, but he left off very early the wearing of anything very costly, yet in his plainest habit appeared very much a gentleman.” Such dress was the _best_ of Puritan dress; just as he was the best type of a Puritan. He was cheerful, witty, happy, eager, earnest, vivacious—a bit quick in temper, but kind, generous, and good. He was, in truth, what is best of all,—a noble, consistent, Christian gentleman. Those who have not acquired from accurate modern portrayal and representation their whole notion of the dress of the early colonists have, I find, a figure in their mind’s eye something like that of Matthew Hopkins the witch-finder. Hogarth’s illustrations of Hudibras give similar Puritans. Others have figures, dull and plainly dressed, from the pictures in some book of saints and martyrs of the Puritan church, such as were found in many an old New England home. _My_ Puritan is reproduced here. I have found in later years that this Alderman Abel of my old print was quite a character in English history; having been given with Cousin Kilvert the monopoly of the sale of wines at retail, one of those vastly lucrative privileges which brought forth the bitterest denunciations from Sir John Eliot, who regarded them as an infamous imposition upon the English people. The site of Abel’s house had once belonged to Cardinal Wolsey; and it was popularly believed that Abel found and used treasure of the cardinal which had been hidden in his cellar. He was called the “Main Projector and Patentee for the Raising of Wines.” Unfortunately for my theory that Abel was a typical Puritan, he was under the protection of King Charles I; and Cromwell’s Parliament put an end to his monopoly in 1641, and his dress was simply that of any dull, uninteresting, commonplace, and common Englishman of his day. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors for Wine, 1641. Mr. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors for Wine, 1641.